


An Unexpected Discovery

by J_Flattermann



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Flattermann/pseuds/J_Flattermann





	1. The Foundling

 

RUBY SWAP COMMUNITY CHALLENGE

written for [](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/profile)[**ruby_story_swap**](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/)

Image H, Prompt 6 “Temporary amnesia”

 

TITLE: An unexpected discovery

Pairing: Haldir of Lorien / Ereinion Gil-Galad

Genre: Slash

Rating: From PG-15 to NC-17

World: LOTR AU

Word Count: 2,161

Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. All characters belong to the JRR Tolkien LOTR-verse. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: Out on patrol Faramir stumbles over a strange person.

 

**([Collapse](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/235316.html#cutid1) )**

  


The message sent by Faramir, Prince of Ithilien

[](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/952/625191)

and his consort Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood created quite a stir in the Gondorian Capital of Minas Tirith.

Nobody, so was the general opinion, could have survived the explosion of Mount Doom. And yet...

Still Frodo and Samwise, the two brave Hobbits, had to thank their lives to the last minute rescue organised by Gandalf. Hadn’t it been for him and the support of the great eagles, the two Hobbits certainly would have perished in the flames and molten lava that followed the explosion of the dark mountain.

But there it was written in Faramir’s own hand and confirmed by the elf.

The news that they had come across a man stumbling across North Ithilien, claiming he had been imprisoned in Mount Doom and only after the explosion of the mountain been able to leave the dungeon he had been locked in for centuries. However the severe injuries, mainly burns and a nasty gash just above the temples led to the fact that the person didn’t know his name, whereabouts. When asked from where he came he had pointed in the direction of the wreckage that once was the great Mountain of Fire.

 

Seeing the charred arms, hands, feet and face of the helpless wanderer Faramir decided that he had to be brought to the House of Healing in Minas Tirith immediately. Therefore he had sent a messenger ahead to make sure that all was ready when they would arrive with the tall stranger.

The appearance of the man who was rather an elf Legolas insisted, had caused a panic in Faramir being reminded of his own almost fateful destiny.

 

However it had been the people of North Ithilien who had first spied the wanderer and in their fear that this might be one of the Easterlings returning to create havoc and destruction they had called upon their Prince to provide protection. Faramir had not faltered. He had sent out a messenger to his brother Lord Boromir, High Steward of Gondor, reporting the findings and also the measures he, Faramir Prince of Ithilien, was going to take to solve the situation.

 

The severeness of the injuries had forced Faramir to speed up and knowing that even Legolas’s knowledge of healing would not suffice to treat the stranger.

Boromir rushed to make all necessary preparations. He wished that he had his King and Queen present but as it was, both had followed the invitation of King Éomer of Rohan to the christening of his first born son. So the decision making had been rested solely on his own shoulders.

The evening of the following day Faramir, Legolas, the injured stranger and a small host of Rangers of Ithilien marched into Minas Tirith.

 

It was late Autumn and the daylight faded early, cold winds were blowing in from the mountains and every one forced to be outside was clad in heavy cloaks and fur. Boromir’s breath steamed as he blew into his bare hand before reaching out to greet his brother with a handshake.

Faramir had bitten on one of his gloves fingers before pulling his hand out and answer the greet.

A footman came taking the reins of his horse out of his other still gloved hand.

 

A group of men and women with burning lanterns in hand rushed to, ready to take the injured man into the House of Healing.

Meanwhile the two Princes and the High Steward walked over the courtyard entering the warm offices of the Steward.

Peeling themselves out of their heavy and protective garments Boromir waved his brother and Legolas to take a seat whilst filling three mugs with hot mulled wine.

“Warm yourselves first. You look frozen stiff like icicles.” The steward said holding out the warming beverages. Looking at the two visitors he shivered at the sight. “Tell me, how did you come across him?”

“It was more like he fell across us.” Faramir said and Legolas still nipping at his wine nodded.

“We were alarmed by our people in North Ithilien. Saying that they feared a spy from either the Easterling or the Haradrim was seen in the country. We immediately arranged for a patrol and when we reached the northernmost border he stumbled straight into our arms.”

“Didn’t even try to hide.” Legolas added to Faramir’s explanations.

“You can imagine my shock when I saw in which state he was.” Faramir said still very pale and now taking a swig from the mug.

Boromir nodded and getting up placed his hand consolingly on his brother’s shoulder.

Terror gripping his heart every time he thought of the devastating fate his brother had suffered from the hands of his own father.

“I wished Aragorn were here.” He said in a monotone voice. “I really wished I hadn’t to cope with this situation on my own.”

Legolas looked up and seeing the worried frown on the High Steward’s face opted. “I shall go and have a look how the healers are getting on. I shall be back soon and report. I trust you two have some more to say to each other. It’s been a while since you have seen each other.”

The elf got up confirming to Faramir that he would be back soon and opened the door. Immediately a cold draft blew into the room making candles and fire flicker and crackle.

“Legolas, close that damn ...” Boromir hollered, shivering with the sudden coldness that had filled the room.

 

Legolas pulled the door shut and stood for a moment staring into the dark sky. Snowflakes were tumbling down and when he took his first step the snow covering the ground crunched under his feet. Pulling his collar up the elf sped up and in a spur crossed the courtyard to reach the House of Healing. Shaking the snow off his cloak he entered the reception hall and soon was met by an elderly woman.

“I come to enquire after the injured man, we brought in a short while ago. How is he faring?”

The old woman shook her head. “Come and see for yourself, my Lord Elf.” Leading Legolas on along a long corridor to almost the very end.

 

Opening the door Legolas immediately recognised the figure of Haldir of Lorién, standing next to the operating table.

“What is he doing here? I thought he was away with the Queen in Rohan.” The old woman shook her head.

“Lord Haldir came here earlier this morning suffering from his usual headaches. It’s this time of year he suffers most. When we saw who you had trusted in our care, we called for him because it seems that we can’t make ourselves understood. The patient has reacted very badly upon our approach but ever since Lord Haldir is here speaking to him in your own language, he has calmed down sufficiently to be treated.”

 

Legolas sighed. “Then you will not need me.” Just then Haldir’s head turned and his hand in the patient’s he waved Legolas to come closer.

Haldir nodded his head in greeting. “Prince of Mirkwood,” he said in Sindarin that was thick with the Quenya accent of Haldir’s native tongue. “I am glad that you are here. My vocabulary in Sindarin seems too short in supply to explain every step the healers are going to take. He seems, however, to understand Sindarin and calms when told what is going to happen to him.”

Legolas stepped closer to the operation table. As Haldir was trying to step back and letting go of the patient’s hand, the injured elf increased the grip.

“It seems,dear Cousin, that the patient has more trust in you.” Legolas said. “So I shall refrain to helping with the words you are lacking, Cousin.” Both Silvan and Sindar Elf bowed at each other.

There was no love between the two elves but they had sworn, the Sindar to the King, the Silvan to the Queen, that they would not quarrel like they had done in the past. So for most of the time they walked their separate ways and if need be and they had to meet, they maintained a courteous but distant behaviour.

Just like two wild beasts who felt that they were of the same strength, they would watch each other cautiously but hold back the violence forcing it to slumber inside of them.

 

The healers in the room were all quiet and subdued, fearful to attract the attention of the two tense elves. Busying themselves with the equipment for the outstanding operation on the patient they missed the sparkle in the eyes and the broad smile on the injured’s face.

Just now the main healer moved towards the operating table and spoke to the patient and the two elves.

“He has much burnt tissue. We need to remove this. By the look of it we will have to cut deep until we reach unaffected flesh. It will hurt. Is there something we can give the patient that will ease the hurt of the treatment?”

Legolas was starting to rummage in his leather pouch he always carried on his belt. However a squeeze of the hand alerted Haldir and looking down on the patient he saw that the injured man did not wanted to be doped.

“Leave it be, Cousin. He doesn’t want any drugs.” Haldir said looking at the Sindar and then at the healer. “Proceed. If you allow me I shall stay here, holding his hand.”

A quick look at the man on the operation table and a brief nod of said, confirmed that this was what the patient wished too.

 

“I see that I am not needed. However, should you require my assistance, call for me.” Legolas said and left the room. Somehow he was glad to leave. As soon as he came out of the House he breathed in deeply and then shivered. In the room there had been the stench of blood, burnt flesh, human sweat and other unpleasantries. It had almost robbed him of his senses. Legolas was glad that he had escaped. Turning his steps back to the Steward’s office he turned just once. Now they would have started the cutting, he thought and shivered once more.

 

The operation had taken long hours. The healers had to cut away a lot of burnt flesh until they hit red meat and blood flew freely. Then they applied a poultice and sealed the wounds with honey and fat, to wrap arms, hands, legs and feet in tight bandages. The worst part was the right side of the face, with the ear burnt to irrecognition.

During the operation the patient had been awake all the time and only a few times had squeezed Haldir’s hand hard when the knives had cut into the unharmed flesh. However not a sound had left his lips nor had the muscles in his face moved once. His bright blue eyes had been locked with Haldir’s deep blue ones and both had not once broken the gaze throughout the entirety of the procedure.

Having to cut away so much of the patients flesh the healers decided just to scrape off the worst burns on the face, ear and neck not to inflict further strain to the already dangerous condition.

“We will wait until the extremities are healed and then have another look at the facial burns.” The leader said to Haldir, who translated to his best ability.

 

The patient was brought into a room and when Haldir was about to turn and leave a hand held him back by his wrist.

“It seems that he wants you to stay with him, Lord Haldir. We highly recommend that he is not left alone tonight. But you are still suffering from your headaches. I shall see that somebody comes and brings you some more of your medication. As soon as the patient has fallen asleep, I shall see to a replacement for you.” The healer whispered to Haldir before leaving the room.

A few minutes later a helper came bringing the medication for the Silvan and a blanket. As the room was too small to hold a second bed Haldir had to place himself on the edge of the patient’s bed. He wrapped himself up before taking his medication.

As the helper wanted to quench the lights a squeeze of his hand told Haldir that the patient wished the lights to be left burning and so he ordered the helper to leave the candles on for now.

 

Being deprived of his lofty home Haldir suffered immensely and to calm himself began to hum and then softly sang a song he had heard the Queen Arwen singing after her father had left to the grey havens. The song had touched his heart and he had translated the lyrics into his own language.

A Caita carelya ammelda ar moiana.   
Lanta i lómë, utúlielyë tiëo mettanna.   
A lorë si, ar óla len i epë tuller.   
Entë yaitar hrestallo pella.   
Manen neyilyë? Mallo niër antalyassë?   
Rato cenuvalyë sa ilyë caurelyar autuvar,   
varna mi inya ranqui.   
  
  
Man cenilyë eccaianna?   
Manen i maiwi ninqui yaitar?   
Arta i Eär  Isil néca amorta -   
Ciryar utúlier an yulu le márelya.   
Rómen ahyuva ve hyellë telpina,   
i cála nenissë. Ilyë fëar autar.   
  
  
I Estel vinta ambarenna lómëo,   
ter fuini lantala, pella enyalië ar lúmë.   
Áva quetë: "Si utúlielwë mettanna".   
Hresta ninquë yáma - elyë ar inyë ata ómentuvalwë.   
Ar elyë nauva sinomë mi inya ranqui.   
  
  
Man cenilyë eccaianna?   
Ma i maiwi ninqui yaitar?   
Arta i Eär Isil néca amorta -   
Ciryar utúlier an yulu le márelya.   
Ar ilyë ahyuva ve hyellë telpina,   
i cála nenissë. Ciryar mistë autar  
Númenna.*1 | Lay down your sweet and weary head  
Night is falling; you have come to journey's end  
Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before  
They are calling from across a distant shore  
Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face?  
Soon you will see all of your fears will pass away  
Safe in my arms, you're only sleeping  
  
What can you see on the horizon?  
Why do the white gulls call?  
Across the Sea a pale moon rises  
The ships have come to carry you home  
And all will turn to silver glass  
A light on the water, all souls pass  
  
  
  
Hope fades into the world of night  
Through shadows falling out of memory and time  
Don't say we have come now to the end  
White shores are calling, you and I will meet again  
And you'll be here in my arms, just sleeping  
  
  
  
What can you see on the horizon?  
Why do the white gulls call?  
Across the Sea a pale moon rises  
The ships have come to carry you home  
And all will turn to silver glass  
A light on the water, grey ships pass  
Into the West  
---|---  
  
Intrigued by the song the patient stirred and spoke. “This song sounds sad. What are the words?” And Haldir began afresh this time singing the song in Sindarin as he had heard it from Arwen himself.

 

Hodo nôl velui benorven lín

Môr danna; le tollen na vethed lend

Losto hi, ah oltho o 'waith i thellir

Athra falas chaeron cenir

Amman nallach? Man i nîr hin buin thîr lín

Cenithach gwannathar echais bain lín

Beriannen min rainc nín, lostach

 

Man pelich cened buin rain amar?

Amman in gwael 'lain nallar?

Ithil 'ael eria athan Aear

I chîr tellin a choled le na mar

Sui cheledh geleb nadath thiathar

Calad buin nen faer bain athradar

 

Estel pêl nan ardhon dû

Trî núath dannol ed rîn a lû

Avo bedo ve tellin sí nan methen

Felais 'lain nallar, ageveditham

Hodathach sí min rainc nín, lostol

 

Man pelich cened buin rain amar?

Amman in gwael 'lain nallar?

Ithil 'ael eria athan Aear

I chîr tellin a choled le na mar

Sui cheledh geleb nadath thiathar

Calad buin nen, cîr thind gwannar

Nan Annûn*2

TBC

 

Footnotes:  
*1 written by Fran Walsh “Into the West” song, translated into Quenya by  Ryszard Derdzinski  
*2 written by Fran Walsh “Into the West” song, translated into Sindarin by Taramiluiel

 

 


	2. Recognition

  


RUBY SWAP COMMUNITY CHALLENGE  
written for [](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/profile)[**ruby_story_swap**](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/)  
Image H, Prompt 6 “Temporary amnesia”

TITLE: [**An unexpected discovery**](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/235316.html)  
Pairing: Haldir of Lorien / Ereinion Gil-Galad  
Genre: Slash  
Rating: From PG-15 to NC-17  
World: LOTR AU  
Word Count: 2,391  
Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. All characters belong to the JRR Tolkien LOTR-verse. No copyright infringement intended.  
Summary: The stranger elf moves in with Haldir and his identity finally is revealed.

**([Collapse](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/236812.html#cutid1) )**

 

The dark veil of the night slowly lifted from the skies and the morning wore a dull grey coat. Both elves stretched out on the bed spoke in soft voices. The stranger asking, Haldir responding, explaining to his best abilities.

As promised the healer had checked upon them several times during the course of the night. The candles in their candelabre had been replenished when it became obvious that neither elf would be able to sleep. However this did not lead to greater worries as Haldir’s face seemed very relaxed for the first time, as he seemed to have forgotten about his headaches completely and the stranger too appeared to be very relaxed and clearly rested.

The fact that elves slept far less than mortals was well known amongst the healers of Minas Tirith, as they had experienced this often enough with their Queen and the Prince of Mirkwood. Who would sometimes pay a visit to the House of Healing in the middle of the night.

 

However the next couple of days proved that the stranger was by far less comfortable and not healing well at all, no matter how much the healers tried to accommodate his wishes. At the same time the tall, dark haired elf wouldn’t allow Haldir to get out of his sight. Haldir, who knowingly suffered from his migraines worst when away from the magic of his Mallorn Tree home, kept silent but suffered.

Finally Haldir was consulted by the Healers, who were worried by the lack of progress in the healing of their patient. Haldir offered to take the stranger out of the House of Healing and into his own home, if the healers considered the transfer of the severely injured elf not too dangerous.

“He survived the transport from North Ithilien, I suppose the few yards from here to my Mallorn Tree will not make much difference.”

The healers of course insisted on an inspection and suggested possible changes to fit the requirements of the patient in terms of his treatment, especially as they suggested that in respect of the severe burns the stranger shouldn’t be moved too often in the beginning. The healers would have to come frequently in the first few days to check on the patient as well.

 

Haldir was slightly worried at first, that this new routine might lead to a major intrusion into his privacy, as he normally led a very reclusive live, but his home which was spread over three different flets in the upper levels of the great Mallorn Tree could be accessed from three levels of the White City and therefore the healers guaranteed that there would be no disturbing him if the patient was given one flet to himself.

The great Mallorn Tree reached from the first level of Minas Tirith to the fifth. At first the plans had been to plant the tree on ground level but the rock face the city was build upon would have prevented the tree from rooting sufficiently to grow to a greater hights. Therefore the plan had been changed and the ground level that should have held the walled garden was rather used to fill in soil gathered in Lorién to support the tree in growth and strength. Therefore the ground level had been layered up until the first level of the city had been reached. Thus prepared and with some magic help from Mithrandir, Aiwendil and the White Lady Galadriel the tree prospered and grew to great strength and hight in a very short time. Before the wizards and the Lady of the Golden Wood left they told Haldir that he had only to sing to the tree regularly and the Mallorn would provide him with a safe home. A special spell would make sure that no intruder would find the entrances to the flets or recognise the home in the top branches. It required especially well trained eyes and the knowledge of what to look for to discover Haldir’s house.

Another spell would see to that the Silvan elf who would call this his home would find his pains eased whenever he was in the confound of the great Mallorn Tree.

Access to Haldir’s house or rather the flets the home was built upon was possible not only from the foot of the tree but also from the third, fourth and fifth level of the White City.

With the House of Healing on the upper level of the White City Haldir and the healers decided that the best solution would be if Haldir would give up his own bedroom and salon which was on the topmost level of his Mallorn Tree home. The requested modifications were made to the healers specifications to accommodate the patients needs.

Haldir himself moved to the lowest flet, where originally the rooms for his brothers had been set-up. However, Rúmil and Orophin would no longer be able to come for to visit their brother as both had taken one of the ships leaving from Mithlond to Eressëa. Just as it had been Haldir’s very wish.

 

Making a few changes for himself, Haldir soon had his rooms on the lowest flet rearranged to his liking. At the same time the topmost flet was re-modelled to get all the necessary equipment and utilities ready needed to keep the condition of the severely burnt stranger stable.

A week after the elf had been brought to Minas Tirith by Legolas and Faramir everything was ready for him to move to his new abode. Secretly the healers sighed their relief, for having both elves as long term inhabitants in the House of Healing had proven to be more stressful than at first believed.

The move however was done smoothly and soon the patient was resting in the newly arranged apartment in Haldir’s Mallorn Tree home.

To the great astonishment of the Gondorian healers the patients wounds healed better and faster from the first day of his stay in his new home. In fact the wounds healed so well that they dared to make plans to look into the treatment of the facial injuries of the strange elf.

“But be prepared that there will be scars remaining. However we will try our best to make them as few and as small as possible.”

Haldir had to translate. He also overheard the healers remarks about the healing speed of the dark haired elf ever since he had been brought to Haldir’s lofty elfen home.

“It’s elf magic.” Some of the healers whispered. Of course they had no experience with treating an injured elf, as Haldir had been their patient only to get potions to help with his headaches and the Queen of Gondor only when giving birth. Still most of the treatment of the elf inhabitants of Minas Tirith were done by the king personally.

But what astonished Haldir most was the response of his house guest.

“They will be battle scars and I shall wear them with pride.” Had been the answer.

This approach was new to Haldir and it made him think.

 

With the King and Queen away Haldir had time on his hands which he spent mostly in the company of his guest. The injured elf still felt most calm and at ease when he had the blond Silvan sitting by his side.

Often the stranger would ask to know what had happened, as he was very astonished to find the life in the City calm, quiet and peaceful at most of the time. He would ask about the dark forces and the threat to Middle Earth and her people.

Not quite sure where to start Haldir began to tell the story backwards, starting with explaining who were the rulers of Gondor, King and Queen and their ancestry.

“BY THE VALAR!” The patient had exclaimed, “So there is a King in Gondor and one who is of royal bloodline. The heir of Elendil. What a comforting thought!”

“Yes, it is. However we are referring to King Elessar rather as Isildur’s heir.” Haldir added. “BAH! Isildur, that weakish boy!” The tall elf almost spatted the name. “Why should he be worth remembering?”

“Now, that would be because he cut the cursed ring of Sauron’s finger.” Haldir said.

Big eyed the dark haired elf stared at him. “He did what? NEVER!”

“Yes, he did after his father and King Gil-Galad were slain by Sauron. However he failed to destroy the ring despite Elrond insisting.”

“You are confusing me now. Elendil slain? OH NO! And Isildur failing Middle Earth, now this does not astonish me. But tell me all. It seems to me that I knew Elendil well.”

“So let me go back to the present rulers. King Aragorn Elessar took Lady Arwen Undomiel as his wife and queen. Together they are ruling over Gondor and Arnor.”

Hearing this the stranger began to laugh out loud.

“Ha ha, unbelievable. That tiny, pale, little thing - Queen?!” He roar. “I can hardly believe it. When I saw her last she was like this.” He held out his hand only low above the ground.

“YOU KNOW THE QUEEN?!” Haldir was astonished but the tall elf in his sickbed only chuckled.

“I was present when she was born. Know her father well. Yes, I am sure I know Elrond well.” He said and smiled before being drawn into his own thoughts.

 

Over the next couple of days Haldir carried on retelling the tale of the great Ring War, as the people of Middle Earth now referred to the darkest hours of their time. Explained how the men had fought against Sauron and won.

Each time Haldir mentioned the names of Elrond, Celeborn, Galadriel or even Thranduil his guest would make remarks which clearly showed not only that he got his memory back but also that he had a deeper insight into the structure of Elven society. But not only this he also seemed to know all the rulers. This in itself made Haldir wonder if his guest wasn’t one of the high-standing elves himself.

 

In this fashion two weeks went by fast and the wounds on the patients hands, arms, legs  and feet healed sufficiently to allow the bandages to be removed. The healers gained confidence and began to treat the burns on face and neck.

“The ear is lost, we are afraid that we can’t do anything there. But when our King is back, he is a healer as well, trained by Lord Elrond. He might find a way to restore at least some of the outer ear.” They told the dark haired elf and Haldir translated true to the word. However the patient did not seemed at all concerned.

 

By start of the third week the news spread that the King and Queen of Gondor were back on their way to Minas Tirith. However their progress was slow as the royal children were still very young and therefore a stop at Aldburg was fitted in last minute to give the Queen and her newly born twin-daughters the needed rest.

In the end it was halfway into week four that the City guards blew fanfares and the High Steward in full ornate with his brother at his side stood by the great gate to bid welcome to the returning Royal Family.

Haldir too had to put on his festive armour. Again he had explaining to do as his guest wanted to know what his position was and why he was required to attend the welcome ceremony.

“I’m the Queen’s first knight and protector.” He had said which had led to more questions and him explaining to his house guest that he only had remained behind because they had tried to avoid to affront the King of Rohan and his Rohirrim warriors. Him accompanying the Queen might have led the Rohirrim to believe that Gondor didn’t trusted them with the safety of the Gondorian Royalties.

However Haldir carefully omitted the fact that he had stayed behind due to the terrible headaches caused by the nasty gash on the back of his head. Just as he had tried to hide the pains caused by the frequent migraines which were only bearable as long as he was in his Mallorn Tree home.

 

When Haldir finally was dressed and ready to walk the winding pathway down from his flet the dark haired tall elf was walking at his side with the aid of a cane.

Side by side they stood just inside the great gate watching on as Lord Boromir and Prince Faramir marched ahead toward the Royal train to greet them.

It was when the Royal couple rode through the City gate that the Queen suddenly stopped her horse and shouted out.

“Uncle Ereinion! Uncle Ereinion! Oh, by the great Valar, Estel, it is uncle Ereinion. Look, there.”

Before anybody could lend her a hand she jumped off her horse, running toward a tall dark haired elf and flung herself into his arms. The arms of the stranger standing next to Haldir. Tears were streaming freely out of the Queen’s eyes and down her face.

“We thought you forever lost, quite dead. Indeed dead, slain. Oh, my dear uncle, what a pleasure to look at you again. To see you. That you are still alive.”

Then she registered the injuries and backing off a little, cried out:

“OH, but you are hurt. Oh, uncle. Have the healers seen to you? ESTEL, ESTEL, come here, he’s hurt.”

Whilst Aragorn Elessar, King of Gondor and Arnor dismounted from his horse, Haldir bowed to the Queen and replied.

“M’Lady, your uncle had been treated by the healers over the last weeks since his return to Minas Tirith. At the moment he is guest in my house, for the healers found that his wounds are healing best there.”

Haldir remained in the courteous bow, his mind raced, suddenly very much aware that his house guest and companion for the last weeks had been nobody else but the High King of the Elves, Ereinion Gil-Galad.

He shuddered at the thought how informal he had treated this noble elf and therefore did not dare to raise his eyes to the very handsome face of the dark haired, tall elf standing next to him.

 

 

 


	3. Two Invalids

 

RUBY SWAP COMMUNITY CHALLENGE

written for [](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/profile)[**ruby_story_swap**](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/)

Image H, Prompt 6 “Temporary amnesia”

 

TITLE: [**An unexpected discovery**](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/236812.html)

Pairing: Haldir of Lorien / Ereinion Gil-Galad

Genre: Slash

Rating: From PG-15 to NC-17

World: LOTR AU

Word Count: 1,973

Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. All characters belong to the JRR Tolkien LOTR-verse. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: Haldir is ordered to look after his houseguest.

  
  
  
**([Collapse](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/240133.html#cutid1) )**

  


During the greeting Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, had stood shoulder to shoulder with his princely lover. As soon as the Queen’s calls for her husband and the name of the stranger elf rang out, Faramir turned to his Elf-lover. “And you didn’t recognise him?” He wondered and then broke into a laugh seeing the Elf’s pout.

“I am not as old as you want to have me.” Legolas complaint.

“OH! I am sorry, love. I forgot.” Faramir joked but his Elf was really annoyed by now and left him standing.

Legolas was angry with the world and himself but most of all with Haldir and the stranger elf. His anger arose especially as it was revealed that the stranger was not only the High King of the Elves but also firmly held steadfast that he wanted to remain staying at Haldir’s home.

“Living in a Mallorn Tree has it’s perks, you know.” Faramir had teased him before. “I wouldn’t mind to give it a try myself.”

This now felt like an insult. It was the last straw. He, Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood was disregarded, disrespected. Anger and jealousy built up in him further. “I will leave. Immediately. They shall see that I am in no need to take this insult.” He growled as he pushed his way through the gathered crowds.

Reaching his quarters Legolas started to stuff his belongings into his travelling pack.

“Damn! Damn! Why has this poncy Haldir all the luck?”

 

However Haldir felt anything but lucky. The revelation that his houseguest was nobody less than the High King of the Elves in Middle Earth himself and uncle to the ruling Queen of Gondor and Arnor, Arwen Undomiel, frightened him.

Haldir, who had been named first knight to the Queen, just like Faramir the brother of the First Steward had been named first knight to the King, and who had served Lord Celeborn should be used to meeting Elven Royalty and still he felt intimidated in their presence. Now even more, with the High King being his guest.

He was almost certain that with the return of Ereinion Gil-Galad, resurrected from the dead, he soon would be asked to hand over his office. At least as soon as Gil-Galad was fully recovered. Haldir doubted not one moment that despite the severity of the wounds the High King would make a full recovery, so very unlike him.

 

Of course the revelation that the Elven High King was not only alive but now back amongst family and friends had led to the announcement of a great celebratory feast to be held in Gondor’s Great Hall of Kings. Haldir had attended only shortly as his duty required and then he had stolen away into the quiet recluse of his Mallorn Tree house.

However he had been restless and for the first time the Mallorn Tree did not provided the calming sensation for him. He climbed to the second story as the flet there was larger than the other two holding the communal rooms and his office. But he remained outside, breathing in the cool night air.

Contemplating, reflecting on how he would feel if he would indeed be disbanded. To his own astonishment the thought that he possibly had to leave Minas Tirith made him sad.

“How strange.” He said to himself.

 

“What is so strange?” The voice coming from behind him made him jump. Due to his musings he had not noticed that his houseguest had come back from the feast and had joined him on the flet.

Haldir blushed and bowed low. Without rising Haldir replied. “I was just thinking, M’Lord.”

“Yes?! And?” Gil-Galad towered tall over him stepped closer and reached out to make Haldir rise.

Confused and very shy Haldir rose himself. Haltingly he shared his line of thoughts.

“I wasn’t too keen to come to the White City at first.” He confessed. “I was certain I would miss my forests of Lothlorién dearly. And I do …”

Gil-Galad walked up standing beside him hands on the railing of the flet almost touching Haldir’s. The tall dark haired Elf nodded but remained silent.

So Haldir continued his string of thought. “However, no matter how much I long to go back … I think … Yes, I am sure I am going to miss Minas Tirith … the people of Min...”

“But there is more.” Gil-Galad said, digging deeper. “I can sense that there is more.”

Haldir sighed, taking a deep breath as if to brace himself.

“So?” His companion said, turning halfway towards him.

“Serving the Queen is not always easy. At first I hated the thought, hated to do it. I only agreed because …

… because I owed her father and because Lord Celeborn asked me to promise to look after her. … It seems …

It’s not easy for her … She has given up so much. …

I think … I’ve come to like …”

Haldir broke up.

 

Gil-Galad had placed his arm over Haldir’s shoulders, his gaze unfocused drifted off into the dark vastness of the realm. “Lothlorién.” He sighed dreamily.

“Oh, yes. I wished I could see Caras Galadhon just once more.”

Haldir could only nod his head in agreement, for he too shared this longing. Still he feared to return to Lothlorién, knowing that his brothers and all the other inhabitants would not be there.

“Lothlorién is no longer the place you remember, M’Lord.” He said in a soft and very sad voice.

“Why is that, my friend?” The High King asked now turning to look straight at Haldir.

“They all left. There is nobody there anymore. They are all gone.”

Gil-Galad looked at him baffled.

“What do you mean?” He asked, “What do you mean, they are all gone?”

“Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel and all their people … They left Middle Earth. Lord Elrond too. There are no more Elves in Lothlorién. The only Elves in Middle Earth are the Elves of Mirkwood. Lord Thranduil’s people.” Haldir explained.

“Lady Arwen, well, I don’t know if the Queen still counts as an Eldar? She has given up her immortality.” Gil-Galad nodded.

He had heard so much from his niece.

Gil-Galad grew very sad. He was clearly confused.

“Why did I undertake all these efforts?” He wondered, murmuring to himself.

“It must be very confusing for you.” Haldir said understandingly. “All the sacrifice. All the blood, sweat and tears. All the fighting to protect Middle Earth …” Haldir shook his head. “All that, to come back and find that all you have fought so hard for and almost given your life in the process … and still all seems to fall apart. Nothing is really achieved.”

They remained standing for a long while in silence until it was time for the wounded elf to return to his rooms and to bed.

 

Since their return to Minas Tirith Queen Arwen, her three children and even the King, whenever he found time, had been regular visitors to Gil-Galad, spending every free hour with the uncle Ereinion.

King Elessar had been looking after the patient in function of a healer for a couple of days but found that there wasn’t much he could do to add to the treatment.

“The healers here at Minas Tirith have learnt a lot. They have done everything the way I had done. Uncle Ereinion has been in good hands, just as Haldir had said, my dear.” He had calmed down his worried wife and pressed a kiss on her temple before seeing to his daily business.

With the Royal family assured that their relative had all the comfort and was well looked after by the healers, life returned to normal.

Such reassured even the visits at the Mallorn Tree home became less frequent especially as the healers had cautioned that the patient needed most and foremost rest.

“We want to avoid to have him getting over excited or too agitated, M’Lady.” Was the general notion.

 

However the return of the Queen to the City meant that Haldir expected to be called to his duty again. To show that he was on alert he arrived at the palace early next day only to be dismissed by the Queen.

“I want you to keep my uncle company, Lord Knight. Keep an eye on him.” Queen Arwen had said. “I fear he will be impatient and therefore risk too much and undermine the healing process. My children and I will stay at the palace for most of the time. We are well guarded here.”

The Queen would give no rest until Haldir had promised. So he bowed and was dismissed from office with a new assignment until further notice.

“I will speak to my husband, the King and to the Steward as well. I shall make clear that you are acting under new orders. Orders specifically given to you by myself.”

 

Haldir was torn.

In some respect he looked forward to spend more time with his guest hoping to be able to ask the Elf who had seen and lived through the first two ages about the history of his own race.

On the other hand, knowing now who his guest was felt very much intimidating and made him ultimately shy.

Little did Haldir know that the reason behind his new orders were the wishes of Ereinion Gil-Galad who had asked his niece Lady Arwen if her knight could keep him company as long as he was still required to stay his sick bed for the majority of the day.

“You know me child.” He had told the Queen during one of her visits. “I am easily bored and not used to inactivity. It would be good to have someone near with whom I can share my thoughts and stories. And you know as well, that the other Elfling is of no use. He is far too young. I would have to explain each and everything and you can imagine how tiresome this is.” Indeed the Queen understood. Legolas was by far too young with his four-hundred years a toddler compared to Ereinion Gil-Galad who had lived through three ages.

 

With each passing day Ereinion Gil-Galad grew stronger and with it returned his memory. However this didn’t seemed to be a blessing as troublesome memories emerged from the depth of his mind robbing him of rest. Through the nights he was tormented with returning pictures of battles, defeats, inflicted wounds and pains as well as his time in captivity.

In his fight with Sauron which had cost his dear friend Elendil his life, Gil-Galad had received the ghastly blow to his temples that had triggered the amnesia.

Having Haldir for company helped him to relax a little and speaking about his memories helped to lift the anxieties he suffered from. Haldir’s quiet presence was like a soothing cold compress to his burning pains and sufferings.

Gil-Galad had experienced such evil during his imprisonment that he did not dare to tell, at least not his over sensitive niece.

With King, Steward and the King’s first knight being busy to rebuild the realm, Haldir was the only person Gil-Galad trusted to be able to cope when he needed relief by naming the horrors he had encountered.

“May I ask why you are putting such trust in me, M’Lord.” Haldir had asked one day.

“I am certainly not your kin, not even of your kind. To me it would have seemed more natural if you had turned to …” Here Haldir stopped thinking for a moment.

King, Steward and Knight were too preoccupied. The Queen - out of question!

No. There was only … OH.

“Well,” he continued, “the Prince of Mirkwood for instance. Legolas is at least of your own race, M’Lord.” Haldir concluded.

  
  
  
TBC


	4. Of memories and other pains

 

RUBY SWAP COMMUNITY CHALLENGE

written for [](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/profile)[**ruby_story_swap**](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/)

Image H, Prompt 6 “Temporary amnesia”

 

TITLE: [**An unexpected discovery**](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/240133.html)

Pairing: Haldir of Lorien / Ereinion Gil-Galad

Genre: Slash

Rating: From PG-15 to NC-17

World: LOTR AU

Word Count: 1,997

Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. All characters belong to the JRR Tolkien LOTR-verse. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: Haldir and his houseguest are getting better acquainted.

  
  
  
**([Collapse](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/241300.html#cutid1) )**

  


Gil-Galad had listened quietly to what Haldir had said about him teaming up with Legolas Thranduillion, but then he shook his head.

“No. No, my friend. You see it is not about family or being of the same race. I am looking for a true companion. One whom I can share my deepest thoughts and feelings with and that is the reason why it wouldn’t work for me to take on Legolas. For we don’t have anything in common. He simply is too young.”

Haldir at first stared dumbfounded at the announcement that Gil-Galad was looking for companionship. Then he blushed. 

All began to make sense. Gil-Galad was the last one of his own kind on Middle Earth, he, the Elf Lord of the third generation. He had been born under the light of the two trees. Even he, Haldir, had not seen these trees anymore. He had been born in Middle Earth at the end of the First Age. But Legolas with his four-hundred years, compared to them was a mere child, a baby.

“With you it is different. You have met, have known people I knew. Seen things I’ve seen. I don’t have to explain all the time. With you I can talk. With Legolas it would be a teacher-pupil situation and I’m too tired for this.” Gil-Galad continued.

Haldir began to understand, seeing the situation. Gil-Galad was on his own. Even King Thranduil, Legolas’ father was younger than the High King. Infact Thranduil and Haldir were of almost the same age. Haldir suddenly understood, saw the bigger picture. It had been all the work of the Valar. His wound, his remaining behind, yes, even the fact that the Sindarin Elves had come and taken over the command. All this had been the Valar’s doing. Deep in thoughts Haldir stood speechless and humbled.

“STOP IT!” Gil-Galad suddenly lost his patience and thundered at the younger elf. “Stop to put me on a pedestal.” Haldir almost jumped at the outburst as it came so utterly unexpected and seemed so against the nature of the calm Sindar Lord.

Again Haldir was about to bow but Gil-Galad took a quick step towards him, held him in his arms and prevented the bow. “DON”T! Stop it! I want you to see me as your friend, not as your King.”

Then Gil-Galad’s mood change and letting go of Haldir he quickly turned away, standing with his back to the young Silvan Elf.

The High King’s voice changed too, sounding desperately sad and hollow. 

“I was never meant to become High King.” He confessed. 

Haldir had to step closer to be able to hear as Gil-Galad’s voice trailed off almost as if he was speaking to himself only.

“I wasn’t meant to be King. Never had been. Wasn’t prepared. Wasn’t trained. Didn’t know what to do, what was expected of me.” He shook his head as if to chase away those paining memories.

“No, I wasn’t prepared for such a huge responsibility. They never prepared me, because it wasn’t meant to be me. Never me.”

Haldir walked up standing side by side with Gil-Galad who sensed his close presence and leaned against the Silvan Elf. Haldir swayed a little at the sudden impact but soon stood firm holding the additional weight.

“What do you mean, you were never meant to be High King? How can that be?” Haldir wondered, slightly confused.

In the same toneless voice as before Gil-Galad responded.

“The one who had been in line to become the next High King refused to take the office. As he refused, I was next in line.”

Haldir gasped. “Who?”

Gil-Galad sighed taken a deep breath. “When he refused, every one was in shock. Only shortly before his brother had chosen not to follow the path of the Eldar but to lead a mortal life as leader amongst the Men.”

“LORD ELROND?” Haldir exclaimed. His outburst sounded like a question without being one. “His brother Elros choose a mortal life. Became the first King of the Men.”

Haldir was more than astonished.

“Then when Lord Elrond denied to take his rightful position, only then they came for you?”

Gil-Galad nodded. “With Elros no longer available to take over and Elrond not willing to take up the crown, I was next in line. When Uncle Turgon was slain, my Cousin Maeglin fought on but he too fell the day Gondolin fell. With Elrond refusing I was the only male in the family left to guarantee the continuity of the line.” Again Gil-Galad sighed and fell silent.

Overcome with emotion Haldir reached out and took Gil-Galad in his arms giving him a hug. However he startled suddenly aware of his boldness to touch the High King, but before he could withdraw Gil-Galad took hold of his hands forcing him to keep his arms in place.

Haldir held his breath for a brief moment.

Then Gil-Galad spoke again. 

“I never wanted to carry this burden. Never cared to become High King.” He confessed.

An autumnal breeze pick up shaking the twigs of the great Mallorn Tree and in it’s wake made the leaves rustle as a shock of them fell tumbling, dancing in the wind until they hit the ground.

The moment the leaves landed on the earth Haldir staggered. An enormous gush of pain raced through his head, made him dizzy as he squinted his eyes in pain.

Gil-Galad’s reflexes were fast and before Haldir could fall he had turned and held the Silvan Elf steady in his arms.

“Haldir, friend, what is it?” He exclaimed worried.

But the Silvan Elf wasn’t able to respond as another gust of wind tore more leaves sending them tumbling. This made Haldir groan in pain, his hands reached up to his head as he moaned.

“You are in pain.” Gil-Galad gasped astonished as he had been utterly unaware to Haldir’s own injury. Just then another shower of leaves fell to the ground and Haldir began to swoon. Holding the Silvan Elf in a firm grip around the waist Gil-Galad reached out for Haldir’s arm and placed it over his broad shoulders. Holding Haldir steady in this fashion he managed to slowly pace by pace walk Haldir over to the rooms on the second flet and once inside made him sit down in a chair.

“My friend,” Gil-Galad said softly, “I can see that you are in great pain. Your quarters are one flet down, mine are one up. I can’t be sure that I’m already strong enough to help you down only to climb two flets to get to the medication I need for the night.”

Haldir’s eyes had grown dull, affected by the great headaches he suffered from. In this state he wasn’t able to think straight or to speak.

“Listen,” Gil-Galad said,  “I think if you try and I try we both can manage to make it one flet up and you stay with me tonight.”

Haldir was in too much pain to protest and so Gil-Galad lifted him to his feet again in the same fashion as he had done before and both staggered out of the room and out onto the flet until they reached the stairwell that led to the upper storey.

Gil-Galad his arm around Haldir’s waist and his cane in his other hand very slowly climbed the stairs until they reached the top flet. There they paused for a minute with Haldir swaying each and every time the wind tore away some leaves from the twigs of his tree-home. It was then that Gil-Galad saw and understood that Haldir was somehow connected to this Mallorn Tree.

«But first things first.» He thought and gathering his strength for one last time he and his burden stepped into his quarters where he managed to lower themselves down on his bed.

Gil-Galad sighed his relief but also gave a small hiss as the pain in his leg welled up. He reached for a bottle on his nightstand which held a tincture and let five droplets fall into a ready at hand glass of water. With a swift backward move of his head he downed the medication and placed the glass back onto the stand. He sighed again, exhausted but feeling the medication taking hold.

After having taken his own medication Gil-Galad turned his attention back to Haldir who still sat immobile his head in his hands, eyes screwed tight, his face as white as the linen sheets that covered the bed they were sitting on.

“Do you have something that can ease your pain?” Gil-Galad asked the younger elf. Haldir tried to nod but it sent his head spinning and the dizziness made him nausea. So he just motioned to the pouch that was tied to his belt. 

Carefully Gil-Galad bent down and untied the pouch, opened it and retrieved a small package. Handing it over to Haldir he asked, “Do you have to have it with water or something else?” But Haldir wagged his finger in negation. Still he struggled to open the little parcel and Gil-Galad rushed to give him a helping hand.

The wrapping peeled away the parcel revealed it’s content, a bundle of leaves.

Haldir tried to fish out two but failed so Gil-Galad came to his rescue again. “Two? - Two!”

Haldir opened his mouth and the leaves were gently placed on his tongue. 

Chewing them slowly Haldir’s face relaxed and the sickly paleness vanished.

Wrapping the leaves up again and placing them back in Haldir’s belt-pouch, Gil-Galad shook his head. 

“Your health is tied to this tree. This is a magnificent curse and I know only one who could be able to perform such a spell. Tell me, friend, why would Lady Galadriel bind you to such magic? Why would she show such cruelty towards you?”

Feeling slightly better now chewing on his leaves Haldir opened his eyes which were still dark with pain. “She meant no harm in doing so, M …” He broke up struggling how to address the High King. After what he had been told it seemed to him that his houseguest didn’t liked to be addressed so formally.

“Ereinion. My name is Ereinion, Haldir. And I wish you to call me that and friend.” Gently Gil-Galad sat down next to Haldir and took his hand into his.

Haldir held his breath as he looked down on one perfect and one marred hand.

“Why, if she didn’t meant you no harm? Why did she bound you to the tree?”

Taking a deep breath Haldir told the story of Helm’s Deep and how the axe of an Orc had split open his skull. Retold that everyone believed him doomed to die and that Aragorn had tried but failed to help and that he had been sent to Rivendell on the swiftest route. He recollected what Lord Elrond had told him after he woke as to how he had tried but even though managed to close the wound hadn’t been able to draw all of the Orc poison out of Haldir’s brain. 

Haldir carried on telling that the White Lady had tried to bind the majority of his pain in the great Mallorn Tree and that he only was able to carry on with his life and his duties as long as he returned to the tree and stayed in his vicinity. 

“They were trying to save my life.” He said. “But now with the host of the Elves gone, there is a change. A change in the weather and while I am fine for half of the year I am to suffer greatly the other half.”

Gil-Galad had listened quietly. Now that he sensed that Haldir had finished he looked at him and asked “May I see this wound?”

Haldir blushed but nodded slightly. Bending forward and brushing his hair at the back of his head to one side he revealed a long dark reddish-black scar which seemed to pulse with life.

  
  
  


TBC

 


	5. Orc Poison, Palantiri and flying Wizards

 

 

RSS Community Challenge: Image H, Prompt 6 // Part 5

An Unexpected Discovery

RUBY SWAP COMMUNITY CHALLENGE

written for[ruby_story_swap](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/)

Image H, Prompt 6 “Temporary amnesia” dedicated to [](http://sadme4b.livejournal.com/profile)[**sadme4b**](http://sadme4b.livejournal.com/)as a birthday gift.

 

TITLE:[ An unexpected discovery](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/241300.html)

Pairing: Haldir of Lorien / Ereinion Gil-Galad

Genre: Slash

Rating: From PG-15 to NC-17

World: LOTR AU

Word Count: 3,009

Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. All characters belong to the JRR Tolkien LOTR-verse. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: Gil-Galad raises hell to help his new friend.

**([Collapse](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/244666.html#cutid1) )**

  


The guards at the king’s palace of Minas Tirith moved aside quickly. They had seen angry elves before. King Thranduil was well known for his rages and feared for them as well. But nothing compared  to this raging elf that stormed inside the palace and straight into the Queen’s audience room and into a meeting on trade and crafts agreements held once a month.

The door was flung open with verve so that it crashed into the wall leaving a dent where the doorknob had made contact.

Before the door had proper given way and before the tall frame of the elf pushed through his voice already bellowed across the room making the Queen flinch.

The voice angry and loud boomed in such a fashion that King Elessar two rooms afar heard and interrupted his own meeting with the emissaries of the neighbouring countries. With quick strides he rushed down the corridor only to arrive in the back of the angered elf who didn’t even bother to turn.

“Uncle Ereinion.” The Queen managed to utter and the King dismissed all present and shut the door firmly behind them.

“Lord Gil-Galad,” He used the formal name, “what is this all about?”

“Why was this hidden from me? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” came the hollered answer.

Both King and Queen looked confused.

Finally King Elessar offered the ancient elf a seat with the wave of his hand.

All three sat down at the table.

“Please, uncle, I don’t quite understand?! What do you think was withheld from you?”

 

 

Facing two eager listeners the elf-lord spoke up.

“Haldir showed me his wound, told me how he had come by it.”

Arwen and Aragorn’s face suddenly looked troubled.

“What else do you want to know?” Aragorn asked.

“What was done to treat the wound? What was used to draw the Orc’s poison? Why was his life bound to the Mallorn Tree?”

“Let me try to answer to all this, uncle.” Arwen said and reached out for his hands.

“When Haldir received that horrific blow, my husband was there. He immediately saw to the wound applying  a paste made from Anthelas. Then when Elrohir and Elladan took Haldir and swiftly brought him to Imladris, they kept washing the wound with Anthelas infused water and applied the paste to seal the wound so it kept clean during the transport.”

Gil-Galad nodded. He knew the healing agents in the plant only too well. This treatment immediately applied by Aragorn and kept up by his nephews had kept Haldir alive.

“Which medication did your father apply, my child?” He asked calmer now and turning to Aragorn he added “The poison on the Orc’s weapon, which colour was it?”

The King shook his head, scratching it, trying hard to remember.

In the meantime Arwen replied to her best abilities.

“When Haldir arrived in Imladris he was barely alive, burning up with fever and the wound festered despite the regular washings and application of the salve.” She began to retell. “Father fed Haldir with a tea made from Lavaralda leaves and flowers.”

Again the elf-lord nodded his agreement.

Feeding the Lavaralda tea was inducing an artificial sleep. Even though it would not help with drawing out the poison, Haldir however was spared to feel the great pain the wound must provoke.

“Who else treated him apart from your husband and your father, my dear?”

Arwen’s eyebrow lifted. “Why are you asking this?”

Gil-Galad cleared his throat.

“Haldir told me he thought that one of the wizards had been involved. He believed it to be Olórin, who had been consulted.”

Here Aragorn interrupted. “Who is Olórin?” He wondered and the elf turned towards the King again.

“I forgot. You know him as Mithrandir or Gandalf.”

He then turned back to his niece. “Which would make me wonder, for even though I’m not questioning Oló..., Mithrandir’s wisdom... but he clearly has no knowledge of healing.

Was his cousin Alwendil …”

Gil-Galad stopped his line of thought for a brief moment and turned towards the King again.

“What do you call the Brown Wizard in these parts?” He asked.

“Radagast!?” Aragorn was confused and looked the part.

“Ah, yes. That’s the name you’ve given Alwendil.” Gil-Galad confirmed.

“But what good would Radagast do? Why should he have been called?” Aragorn wondered.

“Don’t you know? Why is he called the Brown? Alwendil serves Yavanna. There is no wizard or eldar in all Arda who knows more about herbs and what they do.”

Arwen chewed on her lip.

“No, uncle, Radagast … Alwendil wasn’t consulted.” She confessed. “Mithrandir and Grand-mother were.”

Gil-Galad rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I have seen what your Grand-mother has done. I have seen. Who else could come up with such  a stupid idea.” He said and Arwen lowered her eyes.

“She chained a free spirited walker of the forest to a tree. And on top of you didn’t even leave him in the country he loves and calls his home but transported the tree into a city. This city. You all should have known that this is no place for a great Mallorn and even less for a Wood-Elf.”

 

 

The words hit home and Aragorn blushed deeply.

“What do you suggest? Is there something that can be done still?” He asked and his wife leaned in curious.

“Is there uncle? Is there something that can be done? Still effective after all those years?”

Gil-Galad had to chuckle but then called himself to order and grew serious again.

He almost had forgotten that from now on time mattered to the Queen of Gondor. Not as much as for her husband but still it mattered.

“Yes, there is probably a chance. Slim, but a chance. But I need to know which colour that poison was. According to my experience the Orcs always use two different kinds of poison. One is black dark and thick almost like a paste. The other one liquid provides a thin layer of dark with a green sheen to it. He was hit by an axe, wasn’t he? Which of the poison was applied upon?”

Aragorn nodded at the question with the axe but then he shrugged again.

“I can’t remember. It was dark, night, it rained. But … maybe … Legolas. Yes, maybe Legolas can help. Elf-vision is so much better than ours and Legolas was fighting right by my side when Haldir was attacked. Yes, Legolas might know.”

Arwen looked past her uncle and straight at her husband.

“Do you think Legolas would tell you? Do you think he would help...”

Gil-Galad fell in. “What makes you say that? This sounds just like the elfling from Mirkwood would reject his help? Refuse to help a fellow elf? That has never been heard of!”

Aragorn cleared his throat before answering.

“Well.” He said carefully laying out his words in his mind before speaking out loud, “the two are known for not quite being best buddies. But … no … I don’t think Legolas would refuse … if I asked him.”

“Does Faramir still has the other Palantir, love?” Arwen cut into her husband’s line of thought. Aragorn nodded almost absent mindedly.

“Yeah, yeah. He has.” And suddenly he got up throwing his chair over in the movement. He wiped his hands over his face as if waking from a long dream. He sounded tired and weary. “I get our Palantir. You wait here.”

He turned and walked out of the room.

 

 

A few minutes later the King of Gondor returned holding a richly carved wooden box in his hands. The box made of dark red wood looked as if polished but still dust covered the lid and clung in the crevasses of the carvings.

Aragorn placed the box on the table and carefully opened the latches that held the lid in place. The red wood of the lid was darkened on the edges where the marks of many different thumbs and fingers had tinted the wood in a much darker shade.

As soon as the lid had come away King Elessar pulled up a dark soft cloth that held a ball shaped object.

“I’ve already sent a moth messenger to Faramir. Asking him to fetch Legolas and for them both to consult the Palantir.” He announced as he carefully unwrapped the cloth revealing a yellow-reddish glowing crystal ball.

“I thought they all had been destroyed.” Arwen said and held her breath for a moment admiring the light radiating ball. “It’s beautiful.” She gasped.

“We managed to save three.” Aragorn explained. “One is with Éomer in Edoras, the second with Faramir in Osgiliath and this one is the last.”

He placed the Palantir before Gil-Galad and moved his chair so that he came to sit next to the elf’s left. Arwen followed swift moving her chair to her uncle’s right hand side. Three pairs of eyes were fixed on the crystal ball which seemed to be filled with liquid fire.

However soon the fiery clouds lifted and the faces of Faramir and Legolas appeared in the face of the ball.

 

 

It was Faramir who spoke first.

“We are ready to hear your commands, my king.” And Legolas could be heard whispering a bit too loud “Wonder what’ the emergency?”

“I thank you for your swift response, Prince of Ithilien. And you my Mirkwood friend will soon enough learn what this is all about.” Aragorn said smiling.

“Legolas, my friend, I am in need to pick your memory.” The King continued.

“Please search your brain for me, back to the day or rather the night we fought at Helm’s Deep. We were defending the ramparts. You were by my side as was Haldir. Do you remember?”

At first the Prince of Mirkwood pulled a face, knowing only too well who would be the beneficiary of such memories. This effort was all for that poncy Silvan Elf again. However he did not make a remark and staring into Gil-Galad’s frowning face he controlled himself.

The three watchers in Minas Tirith saw the elf’s face bobbing up and down in the crystal ball. “Yes. I do remember. Gimli and I  were having this little game … But I don’t think that is the memory you are after.”

There the Queen interfered.

“You are quite right, cousin. This is not the memory we are in need to hear. But please tell us, when the attack on Haldir took place, could you see the weapon he was attacked with?”

Again the head of the elf at the other end of the conversation moved his head rhythmically up and down.

“Please, Legolas, this is important. Did you see with which kind of poison the blade was impregnated?”

At first Legolas looked at Faramir and rolled his eyes only to receive an unpleasant frown as response. So he shrugged.

“I can do even better.” Legolas triumphed with a smug smirk on his face. “Gimli and I had a fight over that damn axe. Couldn’t agree whose trophy it had been for I had shot my arrows into the Orc just as he cut him down with his own axe. So we took the axe and left it locked away in the arsenals of Minas Tirith. It’s safely stowed away so that nobody would get in touch with the poison by accident.”

The jaws of the three listeners in Minas Tirith dropped as the grasped the message.

“At this point in time neither Gimli nor I knew why we kept it safe. Only the strange feeling that this weapon might be of importance one day triggered our action.” The Prince of Mirkwood continued.

“And well you have done, Prince of Mirkwood.” The Elf-lord exclaimed, “Very well indeed.”

Legolas beamed with pride upon such praise from the King of the Elves himself and he threw wistful glances at Faramir, who seemed to ignore the hints.

 

 

“Faramir!” Aragorn now addressed his Captain of the Guards, “We need to find the wizard Radagast the Brown. However, we can’t say where he is or has been of late. He needs to come to Minas Tirith urgently.”

Here Legolas cut in again.

“The Brown Wizard usually dwells in Mirkwood. My father might know where. He could send out a search party if you wish. It can be arranged, if that is your command.”

Aragorn nodded.

“Yes indeed. I do wish it, Legolas my friend. Also could you stress the urgency?”

Legolas chuckled at this request.

“I do not believe that this would make any difference, King Elessar. You know my father. He is stubborn and complicated at best.”

Gil-Galad suddenly fell into the Mirkwood Elf’s words.

“Tell him this is a direct order from Lord Gil-Galad, Legolas. Tell him the King of the Elves demands it. That the Lord of Lindon is holding him to his oath.”

The elf-lord’s words sounded sinister and unforgiving and suddenly four members of this strange conversation shuddered. Even Legolas did not dare to ask what the meaning of this last remark might be.

 

 

Over the coming days Haldir was relieved from his duties and due to the autumnal storms ripping through the Mallorn Tree’s canopy, he remained in much pain not being able to leave his bed.

His eyes were burning, his head throbbing. Each time he moved his head was spinning causing him nausea. With his condition weakened Gil-Galad spent most of the day’s time by his side. Placing cooling compresses on Haldir’s heated brows. Feeding him tea made from the leaves and flowers of the Lavaralda tree. The tea seemed at least to ease some of the pain. In the tea soaked lembas bread soft and squishy helped to keep Haldir fed.

Each day went by without any news from the North and not only Gil-Galad but also Aragorn grew restless. Each day he would spend every free minute of his time out on the platform overlooking the plain of Pelenor. Staring out at the horizon.

It was closer to the end of the second week when he was joined in his watch by his wife. “How long can this take?” He complaint impatiently. Suddenly Arwen grabbed for his arm and pointed. “Look, Estel, there. Look! There just over the mountains.” She cried out excited, squeezing his arm to draw his attention.

“This looks like … indeed, yes … it’s them, Estel, look … the eagles.”

Aragorn squinted his eyes and gazed at the tiny dots which were fast increasing in size until he too could identify them as the great eagles.

“The last time I saw the great eagles was when Gandalf went out to rescue Frodo and Sam from the remnants of Mount Doom.” He reminisced in a melancholy voice.  But Arwen was shaking him. “LOOK! OH, LOOK! LOOK, ESTEL!” She shouted. “THERE IS A RIDER!”

Indeed on the back of one of the majestic birds was a hunched figure.

A few minutes later and the rider was gently lowered down until his feet touched the ground next to the White Tree of Gondor.

The visitor exchanged a few words with the great eagle that had been his medium of transport before the bird lifted off again.

Aragorn and Arwen rushed out of the palace into the courtyard only to be beaten by a tall dark haired elf who shook the arrivals hand as they approached.

“I am so glad you’ve come, Alwendil. Your knowledge is needed by someone who suffers greatly.’ Were the words of greeting.

So when Arwen and Aragorn arrived all they could do was to rush on following the two who dashed away towards Haldir’s domicile.

“Did you bring everything that is needed?” Gil-Galad asked the old wizard as they sped on to meet their patient.

“I think so, my friend.” The wizard replied, “However, I only can be sure when I have seen the patient. I need to know what I am dealing with first.”

Aragorn and Arwen were looking at each other hope and fear mirroring in their faces alike.

However the wizard bate them to wait outside Haldir’s quarters allowing only Gil-Galad to enter the room and so the two were left standing on the flet.

 

 

Inside Gil-Galad helped to lift up Haldir who was too weak to sit upright. Gently brushing away the long and sticky from sweat hair, Gil-Galad revealed the long wound that angrily inflamed pulsed at the back of Haldir’s head.

“Orc poison!” The wizard whispered as speaking to himself. Gil-Galad nodded.

“The one with the green sheen.” He confirmed. “We were lucky to have the poisoned weapon still in our possession.”

“Hm, lucky indeed.” Alwendil replied in a soft voice.

“Ereinion, give me my pack please.” He demanded pointing his long bony finger towards his backpack of black leather. “I need the bowl, fill it with a little bit of fresh water and then fetch me the three packages but be careful with the last.”

Gil-Galad did as he was told.

The old wizard took the bowl and the first parcel. He opened it and took some of the dried Anthelas flowers to throw them into the water filled bowl. Then he reached out for the second pouch. It contained Lissuin flowers and another handful ended up in the bowl.

The old wizard then took his staff and spoke three magic words. The head of the staff started to glow in a blue flame.

The burning end the wizard dipped into the bowl and began to stir.

Astonished Gil-Galad pointed and asked “Why isn’t the bowl catching fire? It’s made of wood, isn’t it?”

The old wizard grinned and nodded. “Yes. It is made from wood. From the wood of the Oiolairë Tree.” Gil-Galad shrugged, he had never heard of a tree of this name.

But the old wizard ignored his questioning look and rather reached out for the third package.

Handling it with utmost care he peeled away the wrapping.

As soon as the wrapping came off Gil-Galad jumped backwards with a curse on his lips.

“You must be out of your mind!’ He cried.

 

 

 

TBC

 


	6. Mirkwood Spiders

 

RSS Community Challenge: Image H, Prompt 6 // Part 6

An Unexpected Discovery

RUBY SWAP COMMUNITY CHALLENGE

written for[ruby_story_swap](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/)

Image H, Prompt 6 “Temporary amnesia”

 

TITLE:[An unexpected discovery](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/244666.html)

Pairing: Haldir of Lorien / Ereinion Gil-Galad

Others: Alwendil aka Radagast the Brown, Arwen, Aragorn, Boromir

Genre: Slash

Rating: From PG-15 to NC-17

World: LOTR AU

Word Count: 3,300

Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. All characters belong to the JRR Tolkien LOTR-verse. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: A wise old wizard is thrown into the meddling. Some good and some bad new ensue. Will there be a solution?

 

**([Collapse](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/245579.html#cutid1) )**

  


Just as Boromir joined the King and Queen on the lowest of the flets forming Haldir’s Mallorn Tree home an extremely pale elf stumbled out of the room. Three questioning pairs of eyes met his. However he shook his head.

“I can’t say. Just had to get out. Needed some air.” Gil-Galad said and took a deep breath after steadying himself at the railing. Suddenly tears started to sting his eyes.

“He’s using the poison of Mirkwood spiders.’ He whispered and his voice sounded dreadfully hollow and thin.

“Do you trust him?” Aragorn asked.

Gil-Galad nodded.

“So what do you fear? A misdosage?”

“I don’t know. It’s just … When I saw those spiders … he’s so vulnerable … I guess, I panicked. I couldn’t watch. Oh, it’s the first time …” The elf-lord broke up, his throat tight with unshed tears.

“The first time you experience fear?” Boromir questioned but the elf shook his head in negation.

“Leave him be, Steward.” Queen Arwen stepped closer to her uncle and hooked her arm under his. “All we can do is wait, hope and say prayers for Haldir’s recovery, uncle.” She said softly.

 

 

Inside the wizard started to milk the spiders. Carefully collecting the venom in a small cup. Out of each fang only one droplet which left the wizard with six from the three spiders he had brought with him. After the venom was drawn the spiders were carefully replaced into their small transport crates and the wizard wrapped them up into a parcel again.

The six droplet of venom then were mixed in with the paste that had formed in the wooden bowl. Stirring the venom carefully in with the rest of the mixture made the paste bubble up as if heated. The mixture changed it’s colour in the process from a rich deep green created by the leaves to a dark deep blue. Again the magic staff was set alight and the blue flame was dipped into the paste and Alwendil stirred seven times whispering magic words as he did. Soon the mixture bubbled up strongly and the wizard took a sniff and then smiled.

Poking his head out of the door he demanded that he needed someone to give him a hand, holding Haldir whilst he would apply the medication. “Quickly!” He said, “The salve needs to be applied immediately before it loses it’s power.

Aragorn stepped to the task as Gil-Galad still seemed to be too much shaken. The Brown wizard motioned Aragorn to pull Haldir up and to hold him steady. Radagast then brushed Haldir’s hair aside, braiding it so that it was kept out of the way. As soon as the broad scar was revealed that covered the full length of Haldir’s head, the wizard began to apply the blue ointment with a spatel.

Aragorn held his breath as his gaze fell on the blackish-red wound which seemed to pulse and erupted at times in different places looking like a fiery crevasse in the crust of the earth where hot molten lava could be seen.

As soon as the blue ointment hit the scar a hiss could be heard and a terrible stench filled the room making Aragorn’s eyes water and stinging in his nostrils and throat forced him to cough.

Alwendil began to chant magic spells as he continued to apply the paste onto the wound.

As soon as the full length of the scar was covered a shudder went through Haldir and the wizard shouted at Aragorn not to let go of him. Haldir’s eyes opened wide staring with wide blue orbs into Aragorn’s grey and then he opened his mouth and a high pitched scream filled the room.

 

 

Aragorn struggled to keep Haldir steady. His face was worried looking into the contorted features of the elf. He looked up at the wizard.

“Is he OK? He seems to be in great pain.” But all he got for a response was the demand to keep Haldir steady and not allow him to lay down.

 

 

The scream had alerted the waiting friends outside who now burst into the room only to back off a little and cough at the stench that filled the room.

“Leave the door and the windows open. So that fresh air can circulate.” Alwendil commanded and all three of them went to work.

 

 

Meanwhile the wizard prepared for the next steps and brought a wooden scraper and a bowl which he place on the bed behind the sitting Haldir. He then went for another bowl which he filled with some Anthelas tea in which he dipped a rag. This was place onto a table and moved next to the bed.

Looking at the paste covering Haldir’s wound the old wizard nodded and then began to scrape it off Haldir’s head.

To Aragorn’s great astonishment the paste now was pitch black.

As soon as the majority of the paste was remove Alwendil bathed Haldir’s head with the tea washing every remaining bit of the salve off his  wound and out of his hair.

Then both bowls were emptied into a large wooden cask.

This process was repeated several times until the paste stopped changing colour but remained blue after application. Just as the salve’s colour change got weaker and weaker with each application the stench created waned in the same fashion.

 

 

Finally Alwendil sighed and smiling asked Aragorn to carefully lay Haldir back onto his cushion. Then the wizard intensively washed his hands over the cask to make sure that nothing of the salve remained on his fingers or under his nails.

He then turned to the visitors and said: “Let him rest now.”

With outspread arms he was trying to drove them all out of the room.

However Gil-Galad stood firm as if rooted. “Shouldn’t someone stay with him, Ithryn?” He challenged the Istar.  But the old wizard just grinned and shook his head.

“All he needs now is sleep. I rather like to have a look at your own injuries now, Mellon Nin.” He said and Gil-Galad paled and backed off a little.

“No! No, no! I’m fine. Honestly, Alwendil. Just a few burns can’t throw me.” He fended the idea off. “And I don’t think that you can do much about that.”

Before anyone could respond a soft voice could be heard sounding from the bed.

Haldir had slightly lifted his head and looked at his friend and house companion.

“So you trusted him with me. But when it comes to your own injuries the trust ends? I must say I am disappointed.” Exhausted his head sank back into the pillow as all his visitors stared at him in astonishment.

 

 

“Elves!” Alwendil sighed and rolled his eyes, but his remark was ignored by the others who brushed past him to gather at Haldir’s bed.

“Haldir, my friend, how do you feel? Any better?” Aragorn took the Silvan’s hand in his own rubbing it gently.

“I’m a little bit tired. But the head feels much better. Thank you.” Haldir confirmed. More he wasn’t able to say as a voice from behind their backs thundered.

“OUT! OUT YOU LOT! ALL OF YOU!”

“You better do as he bids.” Haldir whispered and then closed his eyes again.

 

 

Not to anger the wizard anymore further they all marched past him with hanging heads and sheepish grins. Radagast was the last to leave the room.

“Speak my name, Haldir, if you need me and I shall come at once.” He said before he gently closed the door.

 

 

Like a flock of sheep the istar drove them all up one flet and had them gathered in the communal rooms of Haldir’s home. Again he shut the door behind him as all were gathered. He scanned the room and as he didn’t found anything out of order he asked the royal couple, their steward and the elf-lord to sit down.

“I was able to draw all the Orc poison out of Haldir’s head wound.” He said and everybody in the room sighed in relief but the wizard raised his hand.

“However.” He started only to be interrupted by Boromir murmuring “Why must there always be a ‘However’? I begin to hate this word.”

“However,” Alwendil continued after throwing a dismissing glance at the steward who immediately shut up. “there is nothing I can do to break the bond between the elf and the tree. This is not within my power. Nevertheless I feel obliged to tell you that this Mallorn Tree is dying. It has been so far removed from his natural habitat that it can’t live to the full amount of years. The process of dying has already started and at the moment I cannot say how long the tree has time to live. Needless to say that as he dies so does Haldir. At least as long as this bond between the two exists.”

The Queen gasped and then the room fell silent.

 

 

It took a while until the first was able to speak again.

“How can we break that bond?” Boromir asked. “If the wizard can’t do it, who can?”

“My Grand-mother created the bond. I’m sure she would be able to break it. If only …” Arwen said in a very shaky voice.

“If only she were here. That is what you wanted to say, child, isn’t it? But the White Lady of the forest is no longer in Middle Earth.” Alwendil reminded her.

Meanwhile Gil-Galad had paced the room, his face in a deep frown. Then he stopped in front of the wizard. “Ithryn, what would happen if the bond was broken by force?” He asked.

Force anxious faces stared back at the tall elf.

“What are you suggesting? How will you break this bond by force?” Alwendil asked. “What are you planning to do, Ereinion?”

The ancient elf sat down by a table supporting his head covering the burnt half of his face with a likewise burnt hand, giving the wizard the chance to take a good look at his injuries for the very first time.

Gil-Galad started slowly to explain in a fashion that suggested that he too still had to think his plan thoroughly through.

“I know Galadriel’s spells. They normally are strong as long as a certain radius is not broken. I mean in this case as long as Haldir stays close to the Mallorn Tree the bond stays strong. Remove one of the two and the bond will break. However, I would not recommend to get rid of the tree just now. However …”

“Again this blasted word.” Boromir growled.

“However, Steward,” the Sindar Elf teased, “Haldir has spoken to me how much he misses Lorien. I thought, if he is feeling better, is stronger, we could travel to his old home country. I believe his heart is still there. Maybe when separating him from this tree, literally might break the bond. I hope that when we arrive in Lorien, Lorien herself will do her magic and restore him to his former self.”

Gil-Galad looked around him at all the faces staring back at him.

“Isn’t that dangerous? I always thought to take him away from this tree would kill him instantaneously.” Boromir expressed all their fears.

“Well, we can’t be hundred percent sure but before I treated him his sufferings were mainly down to the ever so slowly poisoning of his brain by the still festering wound. Now that this wound is cleaned and will heal properly, this threat to his live is gone. However, I can’t say what’s going to happen when he is separated from this tree. It might kill him or not.” The wizard said and lit his pipe.

Aragorn took a step forward and addressed Radagast directly. “Who could say? Is there somebody who could say for sure, you know? It’s just … I can’t allow Haldir’s life to be threatened in that way. Yet we have to break this bond.”

“Maybe if you could speak to the Valar, Alwendil?” Gil-Galad suggested.

The old wizard nodded.

“I certainly can try that. But it might help as well, Ereinion if you and our dear child,” the old wizard patted Arwen’s hand when saying these words, “try to contact the Lady Galadriel.”

 

 

Arwen looked surprised. “But how …” she started but her uncle nodded at her in a confident manner.

“I know how.” He said.

“Ask her which spell she used and how it can be lifted.” The wizard instructed. Then he turned to the king and the steward.

“We need somebody to watch over Haldir during these proceedings. Somebody to alert us if he runs into trouble whilst we are trying to break the spell. I trust that you two will be volunteering.” Both men nodded their agreement.

“But first I will look at this stubborn elf’s burns. For now I have seen them close up and in full light of day. Therefore I can surely say that these burns are artificial and not properly healed.”

Ereinion Gil-Galad stared back at the wizard.

“What makes you say that? What do you mean by these burns are artificial?” Aragorn wanted to know and the Istar looked at the king.

“These burns must have been caused by Sauron himself.” Radagast explained, picking up Gil-Galad’s damaged hand he explained to Aragorn the differences in the scarred tissue between natural burns and what he called artificial burns. Aragorn admitted that he had wondered about the strange discoloration in the scars but he had believed that this might be caused by the fact that he had treated a very ancient elf. Actually the oldest elf he had ever come by.

But now that the wizard explained everything in detail all seemed to make sense.

 

 

“These wounds might look healed to you, but they aren’t.” The wizard declared,  “But deep down in the tissue they are still burning on. You can feel it even.” Placing both hands of Aragorn on Gil-Galad’s the king could feel a decisive difference in the temperature between the elf’s two hands. The damaged hand clearly much hotter to the touch.

“OH NO. Uncle Ereinion.” The lady Arwen whimpered at this disclosure. “Please, is there some cure you can provide, Radagast?”

The old wizard gently patted her cheek.  “Surely child. Don’t worry. All we need to make sure is that this thick headed, stubborn, impossible elf that is your uncle agrees to be treated.” He said.

Seeing the pleading looks of his niece Gil-Galad finally gave in.

He followed the wizard and Aragorn who had been asked to assist again.

Leaving Arwen and Boromir behind in the communal area on the second flet the wizard, his assistant and the patient walked upstairs to Gil-Galad’s living quarters. There the Istar asked the elf to sit down on a chair which he had moved next to the window in a way that when Gil-Galad sat down on it the injured side of his body was exposed to the light.

 

 

The elf had to remove all of his clothes to allow the two healers, wizard and king to access all the damaged area on his body.  As soon as the light hit the burnt and scarred tissue it began to glow in reds, oranges and purple.

The wizard gasped a little at the sight of the large areas on the elf’s body that were affected by Sauron’s fire.

“Hm, it’s worse than I had feared.” Radagast whispered to Aragorn.

“No need to whisper, old man. I might be ancient but I still have elf-hearing, you know.” Gil-Galad told the two.

“Is there something you want me to do?” Aragorn asked the wizard in his normal voice.

“Yes, my boy. I need you to prepare a batch of salves for me. I need a lot, you hear. A large amount of them. Especially the first two.  Let’s see. We need your Anthelas ointment and then a salve made from Lissiun flowers. I give you the recipe for that in a minute. Last not least I need …”

The old wizard pulled Aragorn over and very softly whispered his last order into the King’s ear. “You understood?” Aragorn nodded.

This time the elf couldn’t hear but the worried look on Aragorn’s face was not very comforting. Gil-Galad started to hyperventilate.

 

 

As Aragorn left with his instructions received the old wizard prepared a large batch of very strong Lavaralda tea. As he gave Gil-Galad a cup full of the brew the hyperventilation stopped as the drink knocked the elf out.

Alwendil then spoke the magic words again until the blue flame reappeared at the top of his staff.  He brushed the flame over the damaged tissue on Gil-Galad’s body and face burning away the top layer.

He had just finished when Aragorn re-appeared at the door, holding in his hand the poisoned axe that had been used during the Orc attack on Haldir.

The wizard took the axe off the King and sent the younger man away to tend to the production of the very much needed salves.

 

 

With Aragorn gone again the old wizard scraped some of the poison off the axe’s blade. The small scrapings he shoved into his Oiolairë wood bowl and melted them down in the remaining Lavaralda tea.

The mixture was stirred with the burning staff until a bright green paste was left at the bottom of the bowl. This paste Alwendil carefully applied to the now re-opened wounds on Gil-Galad’s body and face.

While the paste was let to dry the wizard prepared more of the Lavaralda tea. Again he used a very high dosage of the leaves. He filled one cup and fed the brew to the elf.

The rest remained in the calderon and when the paste on the elf’s face and body started to flake he took the hot tea and poured it over the wounds to wash the paste off his patient.

 

 

This done the wizard walked to the door and called for Aragorn.

“Do you have the Lissuin salve ready, my boy?”

Aragorn came rushing by and handed over a large pot before he was sent away again to produce the extra large amount of Anthalas paste.

“Don’t forget to fill the paste in the different containers I’ve given you.” The wizard yelled after Aragorn to remind him. “He will have to apply this for quite some time.”

 

 

Then Alwendil returned his attention back to his patient. Dipping his fingers into the paste he took a handful of the greasy paste and smeared it thickly on Gil-Galad’s cleaned wounds. He sighed and washed his hands after having finished his job.

Again he called for Aragorn to help him to lay the elf onto his bed.

“In two hours the Anthalas salve needs applying. I trust you with that. I shall go now. My work here is done. I take the poisoned axe with me.”

Aragorn nodded.

“I shall be back soon as soon as I have news of the Valar what to do to remove Haldir’s bond.”

The old wizard packed his backpack and grabbed the axe. Accompanied by King, Queen and Steward he walked back into the courtyard on the seventh level of Minas Tirith where the eagles were already waiting for to take the wizard away.

 

 

“Remember, Anthalas salve every two hours for Ereinion. He should be up by tomorrow. He needs to keep up with applying the salve until the last of the pots is empty.”

The wizard gave the last instructions as he climbed up onto the eagles back.

“What about Haldir, Radagast?” Aragorn asked.

“Oh, he’s fine as long as he stays at home and in bed for the next three days.” 

The eagles took off and the last thing the three heard was Radagast shouting: “I shall be back soon!”

 

TBC

 


	7. The Dwarves' barrel

 

RSS Community Challenge: Image H, Prompt 6 // Part 7

An Unexpected Discovery

RUBY SWAP COMMUNITY CHALLENGE

written for[ruby_story_swap](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/)

Image H, Prompt 6 “Temporary amnesia”

 

TITLE:[An unexpected discovery](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/245579.html)

Pairing: Haldir of Lorien / Ereinion Gil-Galad

Others: Alwendil aka Radagast the Brown, Arwen, Aragorn, Boromir

Genre: Slash

Rating: From PG-15 to NC-17

World: LOTR AU

Word Count: 2,222

Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. All characters belong to the JRR Tolkien LOTR-verse. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: Aragorn and Boromir receive a strange visit. All struggle to help Haldir to break the bond with the tree.

 

**([Collapse](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/248574.html#cutid1) )**

  


Two days after the departure of Radagast the Brown a City guard stumbled into the throne room of Minas Tirith’s palace.

He bent his knee and head before the King and the High Steward.

“Forgiveness, my King. High Steward. I beg your pardon for the intrusion but there has arrived a small band of dwarves at the gates.”

High Steward Boromir cautioned the young man by raising his finger and saying “Be careful man not to be abusive.” But Aragorn shook his head and chuckled.

“This small host of dwarves, guard, how many are they? And what do they want?”

“They are four dwarves and a pony-cart, m’lord and of the likes like I have never seen before. Nothing like Master Gimli. They said they came to see you for to collect the cask.”

“The cask?” King and Steward asked simultaneously both looking rather confused.

“Aye, m’lords. They demand to be handed over the cask. Not very friendly the lot, Sire! They demand.”

“Admit them in, guard.” The King said and as soon as the guard was out of earshot he told his Steward “Let’s see what this is all about. It seems rather strange to me.”

Boromir nodded.

“At least they have left the pony-cart outside.” Boromir whispered into Aragorn’s ear as four dwarves entered the Great Hall and stood before the King.

“Are they not bowing …” Aragorn’s hand landed on Boromir’s arm stopping him mid-sentence. The King shook his head ever so slightly. “Leave it be, my friend.” He whispered back at his Steward.

Then King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor turned towards the dwarves.

“Greetings my friends. I’m King Elessar. I understand that you came for a cask. However I don’t quite understand?”

The dwarves looked at each other and began to speak all at the same time rather more to themselves than addressing the King or the Steward.

“Why is he calling us ‘his friends’? We don’t know him. We are not ‘his friends’. We see him for the first time.” The first dwarf muttered.

“How can he be the King if he knows nothing about the cask? Shouldn’t a King know everything? Are you sure he is the right one?” Asked the second dwarf.

“Our instructions were quite clear. Go to Minas Tirith and collect the cask. That is what he told us, didn’t he? Barin, you must have gotten the instructions wrong!”

“NO, I haven’t. Don’t you dare to say this again.”

“Frorin, how dare you to question the reliability of my brother!” The first fell into the word of the others.

“STOP IT! STOP IT AT ONCE!” The fourth dwarf yelled on top of his voice.

King and Steward looked at each other even more confused.

“Greeting, King Elessar.” The fourth dwarf who seemed to be the leader of this motley crue said and lifted his broad brimmed hat that reminded both men very much of Gandalf’s hat.

“My name is Gwáli.” The fourth dwarf said. “These are Barin, Forin and Frorin.” Each mentioned dwarf removed his hat in greeting when introduced.

Then Gwálin spoke again.

“We have been sent here to collect the cask. The Brown wizard was very specific that we should collect it from here. He told us to go and see King Elessar and ask him for the cask.”

Suddenly King and Steward shouted simultaneously.

“THE BARREL! The barrel in Haldir’s house.”

This reaction earned them raised eyebrows and worrisome looks from the dwarves.

 

 

As it was now established what the solution to this riddle was the two men beckoned the dwarves to follow them. On the way to Haldir’s house the pony-cart was collected. During the walk over the courtyard the quarrel between the dwarves began again and before they all came to a halt before the Mallorn Tree the yard was filled with agitated dwarves’ voices, this time quarrelling who would have to take which chore.

As the company arrived at the threshold of Haldir’s tree home King Elessar stopped and asked the dwarves to wait. He explained that he and his steward would go inside to get the cask.

Turning towards the entrance to the uppermost flet King Elessar began to chant the words in Quenya to lift the spell blocking the way.

“See! Magic! I told you that it was no good idea to come here.” The dwarf called Frorin said. His brother Forin nodded in agreement “We all know what happens when dwarves meddle with wizards, don’t we? Need I remember you of what happened to Kili and Fili? They got involved with wizard …”

“How dare you! Kili and Fili are heroes!” Barin yelled immediately.

“Yes, and they died after they followed the instruction of that meddling wizard!”

“Nobody challenges my cousins actions!” Gwáli snapped. “Nobody, you hear, Frorin!”

Boromir rolled his eyes as he and Aragorn stepped over the threshold and through the protective curtain that vailed Haldir’s house.

As soon as they were no longer to hear or seen by the dwarves Boromir sighed.

“Are all dwarves that annoying?”

“Yes, I’m afraid they are.” Aragorn answered. “They love to quarrel with each other.”

“Then I’m glad that we only had one to make do with. I think I’ll have to apologise when I see Gimli next.”

Now Aragorn had to laugh out loud.

“I will remind you of that.”

 

 

They were both on their way down to the bottom flat when they were met by Gil-Galad.

“We have visitors to collect that cask Radagast used to dispose of the contaminated salve when he healed Haldir. That barrel is that still in Haldir’s room?” Aragorn  asked after being asked why they were coming to the house.

“Who are these visitors?” The elf-lord asked and the two men exchanged glances.

Both knew that neither Haldir nor Gil-Galad cared much for dwarves, due to experiences made in the past.

“What?” Gil-Galad sensed that there was something the two men were rather trying not to say. However he was not willing to let them off the hook.

Aragorn was the one that finally spilled the beans.

“Radagast has sent a bunch of dwarves to collect that barrel. I thought it best to make them wait. Boromir and I will take the barrel out and then go back and fetch them.”

Just then Boromir tugged at Aragorn’s sleeve.

“Let me get some of the guards they can take care of that cask and load it onto that pony-cart as well. If you like I go and fetch them?”

Aragorn agreed and the Steward rushed off to make the required arrangements.

“This will save you and Haldir from meeting with them. They are quite a troublesome lot anyway and Haldir is in no condition to handle that.” Aragorn explained.

Gil-Galad smiled. “Now I can see why they made you king.”

 

 

The elf-lord agreed to give Aragorn a hand with the removal of the barrel from Haldir’s living quarters. Soon after the two were carefully carrying the very heavy cask out of the Mallorn house and off the lowest flet and into a street on the equivalent level of the White City. There they waited for Boromir’s return.

Soon after Boromir and his soldiers came to meet them, bringing a hand-cart with them for to transport the cask.

“Quick thinking!” Gil-Galad lauded the Steward while the soldiers lifted the heavy cask onto the hand-cart.

“I thought it better not to lead the dwarves down here but to give them the barrel and see to it that they leave the city. I bet they will be keen on leaving anyway.” Boromir had explained before commanding his men to follow.

When the Steward and his men arrived at the top level of the City and met with the group they found that the dwarves were still in verbal combat. Battling out if it had been a good thing to take the wizard’s orders and come to the capital of Gondor.

Swiftly the cask was re-loaded from cart to cart and Boromir and the City guards accompanied the dwarves on their way to the City’s gate.

Wishing them a save journey Boromir saw to it that the dwarves were well on their way.

“If you are traveling north along the river stop at Osgiliath. My brother will see you save.” He had told him and given them a letter of passage.

 

 

When Boromir returned to meet with his king again, he found Aragorn still in conversation with Gil-Galad exactly there where he had left the two.

Gil-Galad was just explaining who the daily sessions with Queen Arwen were going. As soon as he had been allowed up the Queen and he had started their attempts to reach the Queen’s Grand-mother the Lady Galadriel.

“Progress is slow.” Gil-Galad was just confessing. “The Queen struggles and I fear that this is down to the fact that she has given up her immortality. I’m afraid that it’s not just her immortality that has been affected by her decision, but also others of her gifts given by the Valar. At this point in time I would rather pessimistically say that I can’t be sure that we will ever succeed to achieve our goal.”

Saddened by the news the three stood in silence for a moment until Boromir cut into the silence.

“I have questioned the dwarves on their way out of the City what will happen to the cask. They told me that Radagast has instructed them to take it to Moria and bury it in the deepest vault of Khazad-dûm.”

The mentioning of the place drew a shudder from both men as their memory raced back to the encounter with the balrog as they were crossing the bridge.

Gil-Galad stood looking very puzzled. He hadn’t heard of the place and only after both, Aragorn and Boromir described it to him the flicker of recognition appeared in his eyes.

“Ah! Hadhodrond, the Dwarrowdelf. What happened?”

In brief words the two men retold their encounter beginning with the fight in the Chamber of Mazarbul where they fought against the orcs and their cave-troll and further until they met the balrog and their flight over the bridge of Khazad-dûm.

Gil-Galad who’s eyes had sparkled at the memory of the Dwarrowdelf suddenly shuddered violently too as the balrog was mentioned.

“So that is where he feld to, the last one of Morgoth’s demons.” He whispered and another shudder went through his body leaving the two men astonished.

“But you were not engaging the balrog in a fight, were you?” Gil-Galad wondered.

Both men shook their heads.

“It was Gandalf. Mithrandir, who fought the beast. He knew that we others wouldn’t have the strength to fight the monster. We thought we’d lost him there at the bridge. For he fell …” Aragorn had to stop to swallow hard overcome by the memories.

“Just like it was with me,” Boromir picked up the thread, “the Valar considered his work not finished in Middle Earth and he was returned as Gandalf the White. Having been given even greater power.”

Another shudder went through the elf and Boromir asked.

“Have you ever fought against a balrog?”

“No, I haven’t. But I knew many who have and even though they managed to kill the demons they lost their lives in doing so. Many good friends …” Gil-Galad trailed off suddenly back in time reliving the Battle of the Wrath and the Fall of Gondolin.

Both men saw the changes in the elf’s face and sensed the pain and sadness.

“It’s a terrible thing to come face to face with a balrog. Fierce demons. It can shake the bravest man.” Gil-Galad finally concluded.

But just when Boromir wanted to ask about the elf’s experiences with the balrog a voice rang out from the house.

“Artanáro?! Artanáro?!” Gil-Galad turned towards the voice and back to the two men.

“Haldir is awake. I shall see to him.” He said and walking back to the house he called out “I’m coming, Mellon Nin. I’m on my way.”

 

 

Wiping Haldir’s heated face with a cool damp cloth, Gil-Galad look down at the younger elf.

“Are you still in pain?”

But Haldir shook his head in negation.

“What is it then, Mellon Nin? You don’t look at all well.”

“I am having nightmares, Artanáro. I’m walking in the shadows in my dreams.”

Haldir swallowed hard and Gil-Galad reached for the cup with water to moist his lips and throat.

“We are trying hard. Don’t give up. We will find a way to stop this.”

Gil-Galad sighed deeply. It affected him very much to see the Silvan elf suffering so much. Carefully not to hurt Haldir he shoved him to the other end of the bed before he crawled in beside him.

“I’m staying with you.” He said softly and Haldir rested his head on his chest.

“You need some more rest, Mellon Nin. You are much too agitated. I’ll stay by your side and watch over your sleep.”

Gil-Galad very gently stroked over Haldir’s hair brushing it out of the still flushed face as he spoke. 

Haldir listened to the steady thump of his friend’s heartbeat. He sighed and closed his eyes.

 

 

 

TBC

 


	8. The Wizard Returns

 

 

RSS Community Challenge: Image H, Prompt 6 // Part 8 of 9

An Unexpected Discovery

RUBY SWAP COMMUNITY CHALLENGE

written for[ruby_story_swap](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/)

Image H, Prompt 6 “Temporary amnesia”

 

TITLE:[An unexpected discovery](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/248574.html)

Pairing: Haldir of Lorien / Ereinion Gil-Galad

Others: Alwendil aka Radagast the Brown, Arwen, Aragorn, Boromir

Genre: Slash

Rating: From PG-15 to NC-17

World: LOTR AU

Word Count: 1,481

Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. All characters belong to the JRR Tolkien LOTR-verse. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: In Minas Tirith Aragorn has to face bad new all around. Does Radagast provide some better news?

 

  
**([Collapse](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/249510.html#cutid1) )**

  


Two weeks went past and Gil-Galad, the Queen and the King were at their wits end.

Despite the elf-lord’s best efforts, he and the Queen had not been able to reach out to the Undying Lands and contact the Lady Galadriel.

Still they wouldn’t give up and Aragorn joined forces adding the Palantir but success remained evasive.

Meanwhile Haldir was out of bed but still weak. Having good and bad days depending on the weather and the condition of the Mallorn Tree.

One day Aragorn returned to his private chambers  he found Arwen sitting in the window-seat, crying.

“What’s the matter, my love?” He asked rushing over to take her into his arms. “Why are you crying?” He asked gently as he rocked her like a child in distress.

“I’m such a disappointment to all of you.” She began still sobbing. “I am useless, a burden. I’m no good to the people of Gondor andn a danger to my own kind.” She wailed, bursting into more tears.

“Now! Now! What is this nonsense? What makes you say such a thing? We all love and adore you.”

But she shook her head.

“I’m only in your way. You would be much happier without me. Boromir would be much happier too. If only I had listened to Ada. I should have left Middle Earth when it was still time.” Then she sobbed even more and with a painful outcry she confessed.

“And now I’m responsible for Haldir’s death. If it hadn’t been for me …”  She broke up, shaking violently with sobbing tears as Aragorn drew her head gently on his chest. 

“There. There.” He said softly, stroking her hair to calm her down. “What nonsense!”

The truth, and he knew it well, that Haldir would never have left Lorién to relocate to Minas Tirith if she hadn’t intervened and influenced both father and Grand-father to order Haldir to serve as her first knight. However Aragorn knew only too well that she hadn’t done this mean-spirited but rather form sympathy for Haldir. Not being able to bear the thought of him dwelling all alone by himself in Lorién after all the elves would have left.

But of course one way or another she was correct. The predicament Haldir was facing now was down to her doings. Somehow Aragorn believed that Haldir had fared better if he had been allowed to remain in his beloved homeland. But like it or not this option was no longer and now that his life had been tied to the Mallorn Tree in Minas Tirith he was in more danger than before.

Pushing the thought aside he concentrated on comforting his disheveled wife again.

“I will try to get in touch with Radagast.” He promised her hoping it would give her peace.

As soon as Arwen was a little calmer Aragorn urged her to rest and the Queen gave willingly in as she experienced for the first time in her long life a headache induced by the intensives crying. With his wife resting Aragorn went to consult the Palantir in hope to contact Radagast to find out if there was at least a slim chance of hope that the Valar would grand the breaking of the bond between tree and elf.

However his first two attempts led to nothing. With his third attempt he finally was successful.

“Radagast, forgive me the intrusion.” Aragorn said, “But my Queen is so devastated and blames herself for Haldir’s situation, that it has become unbearable and we are in urgent need of a solution.” 

“How are the elves?” The wizard asked in return.

“Well, Gil-Galad is doing fine even though we don’t see much of him lately. He spends most of his time with Haldir at the moment.” Aragorn reported back. “Haldir, however, that is a completely different story ...”

“By the way,” the old wizard cut into Aragorn’s speech before he could finish. “The dwarves sent their regards. The cask has been successfully disposed off. They have thrown it into the chasm of Khazad-dûm. I was personally present to seal it off. Just to make sure, you know. We all remember only too well how easy and fast evil can return, don’t we?”

Aragorn nodded at the wrinkled face within the Palantir.

“But Radagast, what I really need to know is, if you have been able to speak to the Valar. What did they have to say?”

The old wizard smiled and suddenly looked extremely tired. He wiped his face several times before answering and Aragorn thought that his expression had changed to sadness and helplessness.

“I understand, my boy.” Radagast said in a hollow tone of voice. He then took a deep breath. 

“I’m afraid you will not like their answer though. Honestly I myself was very disappointed.”

“RADAGAST! ... PLEASE ... What did they say?” Aragorn urged.

“Och!  *sigh* , Well! They said that it had been the elves that started the mess. Therefore they found it should be down to the Elves to find a solution to the problem.” The old wizard shrugged. “I know, it’s not what we hoped for. Of course I will try to sway them.” He added and again began to wipe over his face and to rub his eyes. “I gather from your urgency that trying to summon the Lady Galadriel isn’t going so well. Otherwise your wife wouldn’t be so upset.”

Sad and utterly tormented Aragorn went back to his private chambers. The conversation with Radagast had led to nothing. On his way he met with Boromir, Faramir and Legolas.

“Bad new?” Boromir enquired seeing Aragorn’s long and sunken face. The King only nodded and all four retreated to the next available meeting chamber to discuss what had happened.

Quickly Aragorn filled the others in, telling them about Arwen’s depression over feeling useless, carefully omitting the fact that it had been her doing that Haldir found himself in this dilemma. He then retold the conversation he had had with Radagast the Brown over the Palantir.

“Do you think, Legolas, it would be worth a try to team you up with Gil-Galad?” The King asked feeling that this was his last resort, but Faramir shook his head and replied in Legolas’ stead before the Sindar could put a word in. So Legolas was left with pulling a face.

“I’m not so sure if this would be a good idea, King Elessar. You see, we all know that there are issues between Legolas and Haldir, which I believe will not be lightly overcome.” Faramir explained.

At first all fell silent but then Boromir lost his temper and with a loud crushing noise he slammed his fist onto the table’s surface.

“LEGOLAS, YOU SELFISH SON OF A ...”

“STEWARD!” The King stopped him before he could insult the Prince of Mirkwood. “DON’T!”

Boromir blushed bright red.

“Well,” growled he at the rest of the member of the meeting, “something ought to be done.”

To this all could agree.

The King sighed deeply. 

“I shall have a word with Gil-Galad and Haldir in this matter.” He said sounding very exhausted. “I can only hope that we will find a solution before the death of the Mallorn Tree. Otherwise we need to prepare the funeral for Haldir as well.”

Legolas had been quiet and chewing on his lower lip he finally opted. “I will speak to my father. Maybe he can come up with a solution how to solve this problem.”

This was agreed and the four went their ways. The King however decided to first have a look how his wife was faring before heading over to see the two elves.

Queen Arwen was still asleep and didn’t even wake when he stepped closer to the bed. He pulled up the covers and tucked her in before leaving the room again.

Heavy hearted he made his way across the courtyard and towards the Mallorn Tree.

The tree appeared to him strangely barren and from afar seemed almost like dead. 

When Aragron arrived at the upper-level entrance he couldn’t detect the security field that normally surrounded the tree.

«How strange. I hope that this has nothing to do with Haldir.» He thought as he entered without the need of removing the spell. Worried he quickened his step to reach the lowest flet as he knew that he would find Gil-Galad and Haldir there.

He almost stormed into Haldir’s living quarters.

A few minutes later and Minas Tirith rang with the shouts “ALARM” “GUARD TO THE WHITE TREE” “GATHER UP”.

From all levels soldiers as well as members of the public came running. Over the topmost courtyard Boromir, Faramir, Legolas and even Arwen rushed by.

As the courtyard filled up with people Aragorn lifted his hands to quieten them. He then drew a deep breath and announced.

“HALDIR AND GIL-GALAD ARE GONE!”

  
  


TBC

 


	9. Bonds - old and new

 

RSS Community Challenge: Image H, Prompt 6 // Part 9 of 9

An Unexpected Discovery

RUBY SWAP COMMUNITY CHALLENGE

written for[ruby_story_swap](http://ruby-story-swap.livejournal.com/)

Image H, Prompt 6 “Temporary amnesia”

  


TITLE:[An unexpected discovery](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/249510.html)

Pairing: Haldir of Lorien / Ereinion Gil-Galad

Others: Alwendil aka Radagast the Brown, Arwen, Aragorn, Boromir

Genre: Slash

Rating: From PG-15 to NC-17

World: LOTR AU

Word Count: 1,672

Disclaimer: Pure Fiction. All characters belong to the JRR Tolkien LOTR-verse. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: All's well that end's well.

A/N: As a birthday fic for the lovely Craig Parker. Happy Birthday Haldir!

 

**([Collapse](http://j-flattermann.livejournal.com/254756.html#cutid1) )**

  
Haldir stood in the window of the palace of Caras Galadhon overlooking the forest of Lothloríen. He sighed contentedly. There was no place in Middle Earth he loved and cherished more than his beloved Loríen.  
A smile played on his lips as he closed his eyes and let himself fall backwards until his shoulders came to rest on Gil-Galad’s broad chest. For he had of course sensed his friend stepping in behind him.  
Gil-Galad’s face too split into a grin. Happy and amazed by this demonstration of trust on behalf of his Silvan friend. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around the waist of his fair-haired friend. Glad to find Haldir so happily at peace with himself.  
With his eyes still closed Haldir rested his head against Gil-Galad’s so that their cheeks met.  
“When do you think can we be sure that our break away had the wished for effect?” He asked.  
Of course the dark-haired Sindar knew that his fair-haired friend was referring to their attempt to break the spell that bonded Haldir to a certain Mallorn Tree in Minas Tirith.

 

They had arrived in Loríen after stealing away from Minas Tirith in the middle of the night, leaving friends behind who might be sick with worry by now.  
As they had been traveling by horse Haldir had grown weaker at first. The further they had removed themselves from Minas Tirith the worse Haldir’s condition grew and only a few leagues away from the boundaries of Loríen Haldir had fainted in Gil-Galad’s arms. Gil-Galad worried sick had grabbed him tight to prevent him from falling off the horse as he spurred the stallion on to an even faster speed.  
On arrival at the border to the forest of Loríen the horse had shied and almost thrown him off with his precious cargo in his arms.  
Fear had crept up in Gil-Galad for the third time in his life. Fear to loose Haldir to his own impatient folly of not waiting for the return of the Istar and hearing his counsel.  
He had dismounted and gently pulled Haldir from the horse’s back into his arms.  
When the load was lifted from the animal’s back the stallion darted away.  
Gil-Galad knew that the Lady Galadriel wouldn’t have left Middle Earth without guaranteeing the safety of her beloved Lothloríen.  
He’d expected the Loríen forests to be protected by a powerful spell similar to the Girdle of Melian and so the shying of the horse hadn’t come unexpected to him.

Shifting Haldir’s weight in his arms he slowly approached the invisible fence that had been woven around the forest. He held his breath as he slowly moved forward. Not knowing what might happen and without an alternative option he had to take his chances.  
He couldn’t say why, perhaps to protect Haldir who was still unconscious in his arms, he turned his back towards the fence as he slowly began to walk backwards crossing over the border.  
He couldn’t even say what he had expected to happen. However crossing over nothing happened, not to him and obviously not to Haldir. Not even a tickle.  
He had to laugh and it sounded nervous and relieved at the same time. If he had had his arms free he would have slapped himself for being so stupid. Of course, they both were elves and even more Haldir was the Borderguard of Loríen. Why should they come to harm entering elven territory?!

Knowing that Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel had left their palace in Caras Galadhon he didn’t even attempted to find Haldir’s woodland home. Half way to the palace Haldir regained consciousness.  
“Mellon Nin, how are you?” Gil-Galad had exclaimed, surprised to find Haldir stirring and opening his eyes looking at him.  
Confirming that he still was feeling slightly weak but not blacking out again and able to walk on his own after a short rest Haldir and Gil-Galad moved on. However Gil-Galad insisted that Haldir was taking his arm for support.

On arrival at the palace in Caras Galadhon Haldir was quite exhausted so Gil-Galad took him straight to bed.  
“Are you hungry? Or would you rather go to sleep immediately?” Haldir was asked but his eyes had already closed.  
Gil-Galad gently removed Haldir’s boots and peeled him out of his clothes before tucking him in. Then he went to prepare some food in case Haldir woke up hungry. With everything ready on a tray he made his way back to the bedroom. Haldir’s breathing was regular indicating that he indeed slept. Gil-Galad smiled at the beautiful sleeper. Quietly he placed the tray on a side-table which he placed in reach of the bed. This done he undressed and crawled in under the blanket with Haldir.

Gil-Galad and Haldir had started to sleep together after the Sindar noticed that his house companion was troubled with nightmares. The nightmares subsided as soon as he started to share the bed with the Silvan elf.  
Over the weeks that followed their arrival in Loríen Haldir gained strength and even his need for sleep was reduced to the normal amount.  
Still both elves stayed on high alert and only after the first month was over Gil-Galad allowed himself to hope that Haldir’s bond to the tree had been broken when they entered Loríen.  
However he couldn’t be sure, so he still continued to watch Haldir closely, but even after the second month passed the positive development in Haldir’s health didn’t change.

Now well into month three Gil-Galad was thinking about to contact Aragorn in Minas Tirith. He needed information on the state of that Mallorn Tree to be sure despite being quietly confident. However he feared to tell Haldir and even more that Aragorn might insist that they should return to Minas Tirith or even come and fetch them back. Maybe if he contacted the Brown Wizard first, he might find the answers?!

Haldir noticed that his friend grew tense at tense and as Gil-Galad refused to talk about what made him uncomfortable and worried, he began to investigate for himself. Believing that Gil-Galad might be in pain caused by the burns, Haldir started to inspect the burns every time he and Gil-Galad cuddled up. The burns however looked good, healed and with the regular application of the salve Aragorn had made following the instructions of Radagast the scarring of the tissue was kept down to a minimum.  
This gave Haldir the idea to check how much of the salve jars were left for their perusal. So he stole away whilst Gil-Galad was preparing their meal to count the remaining jars. However as he arrived in the cool storage where the jar were kept he found that there was no jar left. They were down to the last jar. Being the one to apply the salve each morning and evening on Gil-Galad’s body he knew that the jar they had in use was lasting for three more applications before they would run out.  
«Maybe,» he thought, «this is what is bothering Gil-Galad. Maybe Gil-Galad was still in pain or feared the return of the pain as soon as the last jar was empty.» There was only one solution to the problem he, Haldir, would need to get some more of the salve. The salve they were using, he knew had been prepared by Aragorn but the recipe had come from Radagast the Brown. If he’d contacted the old wizard directly the chances to get the right ointment were much higher than to risk to rely on Aragorn’s memory.

Unbeknown of the other each of them contacted the Istari and a week after they made contact a large host of people arrived at the borders to Loríen and with the help of Queen Arwen entered to call upon Haldir and Gil-Galad at Caras Galadhon.  
Astonished the two were facing not only the old wizard but also the King and Queen of Gondor and their Steward, the Prince of Ithilien and his Elf-consort.  
However what seemed to turn into a nasty game who was to blame soon changed into a cheerful celebration as the visitors discovered that both elves were not only well but also recovered from their injuries and confirmed by the Istar and the royal couple Haldir’s bond to the tree had been broken.  
“The tree died six days after you vanished.” King Elessar told them. “We feared the worst when it died and as it became a hazard to the City we had to take it down.”  
“Six days after we left, you say?” Gil-Galad needed reconfirmation and of course received it.  
“That was when you lost consciousness Haldir and I feared you would die.” He confessed.  
“What did you do?” Radagast asked and Gil-Galad explained how he had forced the horse to speedup until they had reached the border to Loríen and how he had carried Haldir when entering.  
“Several hours after arriving here,” Gil-Galad carried on, “Haldir woke and from then on he grew stronger and healthier every day.”  
Radagast was begged to perform a health check on both and returned smiling.  
“As long as the two stay here in Caras Galadhon, there is nothing to worry about.” He said calming Arwen’s worried nerves.  
The royal couple was relieved to hear and as Loríen was still close enough to Minas Tirith for Arwen to visit her uncle, everybody happily agreed that Gil-Galad’s instinct had been right.  
“In the end it’s been you who saved his life.” King Elessar said shaking first Gil-Galad’s and then Haldir’s hand when they parted.  
The two friends stood arm in arm waving “good bye” as the visitor left Caras Galadhon and Lorien after two days.

“The next time ...” both elves started at the same time and then looking at each other laughed, fell into each others arms and kissed.

THE END

 


End file.
